


Chasing Cars

by PrincessButter87



Series: Eyes Open [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Abuse, Breaking Up & Making Up, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, OC, Original Character(s), Past Child Abuse, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Rape, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, Spideychelle, i can tell you that, i mostly write this to make myself cry at 2am, not me, so whos to say, who even knows where this is gonna go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-05-25 07:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 186,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessButter87/pseuds/PrincessButter87
Summary: About a year after the events of Spider-Man: Homecoming, things have changed at Midtown Tech. The biggest change for MJ is her friend group. She's been spending time with a tight-knit group of people, and she's really enjoying it. Everything seems to be going well. Well, there's one catch. She and her best friend, Peter, have been spending more and more time together, which is great, except that suddenly everyone wants them to date. Maybe it's just a phase, or maybe their friends can see how they look at each other better than they can.This fic is based off of an rp group on IG and our storyline! If you want updates on the story, follow me, @mj.aka.michellejones, and while you're at it, follow everyone else in the group!There's also a Spotify playlist for this story if you want some background music that coordinates with the storyline. It might not fill every chapter, depending on how fast you read, so make sure you check the notes at the beginning of each chapter :)The playlist is called "Chasing Cars - Princess Butter" and my spotify username is mayashiela.This story will definitely update inconsistently, but I'll try not to be too sporadic.





	1. Prom

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! First off, I want to acknowledge everyone in my rp group who encouraged me to actually write the whole fic following our storyline.  
> This story will follow the storyline we have going on our instagrams, but more in depth. For example, if you see one of us post about going to prom, you'll see the full story on here from MJ's POV. It's just an idea that I've been playing around with, and I'm hoping it turns out as well as I think it could.  
> The songs for this chapter are song 1 for May 17th, song 2 for May 18th, songs 3 and 4 for May 19th on the playlist. I recommend playing them at a low volume so you can focus more on the story than the music. Obviously listening to the playlist is optional, but later on in the story it'll have a strong effect. :)  
> Enjoy the first chapter, kids!

**May 17th, 2018**

Miles picked me up from my apartment after school.

He'd gone to Midtown for two years, then transferred to a charter school in Brooklyn. It was disappointing, because we all thought he and Cindy were  _just_ about to get together, but then he moved and took our hopes with us. It sucked, royally. Cindy tried to play it off like she didn't care, but she was super bummed out for a good three months. 

SO. Miles picked me up, and took me out to this Italian restaurant downtown. I wasn't nervous because I liked him, I was nervous because we hadn't talked in forever and I didn't know why he'd reach out to me just a couple of days before Midtown's prom. I didn't see a reason why he'd ask  _me_ to prom, considering how we all knew he felt about Cindy. 

"So," I started, putting down my menu, "what's up?"

"Oh, I'm thinking about the pasta primavera, but the-"

"Miles, I meant why did you bring me here?" I interrupted. I was a little skeptical of why he'd reached out.

"Oh, um, I was hoping to bring that up later, but since you asked." He put down his menu and took a sip of water. I blinked, waiting for an explanation. "Do you want to go to prom with me?"

I coughed. "What?"

"Not, like, actually go to prom with me, but as a jealousy stunt. I can get Cindy's attention back, and you can make Peter jealous."

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to make Peter jealous."

Miles grinned, "So you guys are dating now?"

"No! And I don't want to date him. We're just friends. Don't worry about it."

He rolled his eyes and picked his water up again. "Keep telling yourself that, Jones."

"Alright, Morales." 

We ordered our food and ate in silence for a while. While we ate, I turned the idea over in my head. Not to make Peter jealous, per se, because why would I even want that? However, if I could bring Miles into the school, I could ditch him with Cindy and then go party with Ned, Peter, and Liz.

It didn't sound bad in my head. 

"Okay, so, hypothetically, if I were to agree to this ridiculous scheme-"

Miles was grinning ear-to-ear. "Continue."

"If I were to agree, what do I get out of it?"

He rolled his eyes. "We've been over this. You make Peter jealous, and then he'll _finally_ make a move on you."

"That," I protested, "is not a perk." Miles scoffed. "I'm serious! Miles, I'm really not thirsting after Peter. Besides, he already has a date, I think."

He shrugged, saying, "Then I have nothing to offer you."

I felt bad. I wanted him and Cindy to get together. But I didn't even really want a date to this dance. 

"Okay, I have a compromise." He perked up a little. "What if I post a picture on my Instagram of the two of us walking out of the restaurant?"

"What?"

"Cindy will see it, it'll remind her how much she likes you, and maybe she'll text you or something. I don't know, dude."

He reached his hand across the table. "Deal."

We shook on it. Then, we finished eating, Miles payed the bill, and we got a lady outside to take a candid of us.

"Thanks for dinner, Morales."

"Thanks for the help, Jones."

"You should come back to Midtown Tech," I told him. "Queens is much better than Brooklyn."

He chuckled a little. "You know what? I'll see what I can do."

 

**May 18th, 2018**

"Cindy, we don't have long enough streamers to do your cross-hatching thing."

"Shit. Okay, uh, I guess we can have them all go out from the chandelier to the edges of the gym."

"Yeah, let's try that."

I'd made the very, very stupid mistake of agreeing to help Cindy with decorating for prom. The whole situation was very sketchy. There was a ridiculous amount of dust on the supplies the school provided, nobody else was here, and the whole building was dark. I didn't like it. In fact, I made a point of complaining about it.

"You know, if we both fall off of ladders and die, nobody will discover our bodies until tomorrow before prom."

Cindy flipped me off. "Stop being a baby and hold my ladder stable." I squinted at her, but held the ladder anyways. As she climbed up, she said, "I'm not too worried about the two of us falling and dying and going unnoticed."

"Why?"

"Peter's so obsessed with you that he'd come by if he didn't hear you were home safe by nine."

"Oh, screw you, Cindy." I let go of the ladder, using both hands to flip her off. 

"MJ, no! I'm gonna fall!"

I grabbed the ladder again, but grumbled angrily about it. 

"So, how do you feel about Liz asking Peter to the dance?"

I shrugged. "It's cool that she's forgiven him for everything. I'm glad they're getting along."

Cindy stared at me. "MJ, come on."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Cindy!" I sighed, and added, "Do you want me to start crying about how jealous I am or whatever? Do you want me to put up a banner saying that he should've asked me instead of going with her?"

"Is that how you feel?"

I dropped my head back in frustration. "No! It isn't! I'm so tired of everyone assuming that I wish Peter had asked me out. We're just friends."

Cindy climbed down the ladder and crossed her arms. "Have you taken your shirt off in front of him?"

"What?"

"If you've taken your shirt off in front of him, he's either really deep in the friendzone or you're about to get some dick."

I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. "God, Cindy, go to church with your dad once in a while."

"You don't even believe in a god, don't tell me I need Jesus. Plus, you haven't answered the question."

"No, I have not taken my clothes off in front of Peter."

Cindy raised her eyebrows. "Then there's hope for you yet."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I mean, you don't feel comfortable stripping in front of him, right? But you've taken your shirt off in front of me. That's because you're not worried what I think of your body because you're not concerned about how attracted to your body I am. But with Peter, you are."

"That's not why-"

"Then why do you trust me but not him?"

I groaned. "It's not an insecurity thing, it's just that it's, like, different. I don't know. It'd make me uncomfortable. Like there was an expectation or something."

"So there's an expectation?"

"God, Cindy, I'm leaving."

"No! Wait! I won't get this done in time alone. I'll drop it."

I smiled. "Thanks."

 

**May 19th, 2018**

Let me start off by saying that I was perfectly capable of driving myself to prom. I'd had my license since mid-September, I had a car, there was no reason I couldn't drive myself. 

Mom insisted on getting a limo for me and my friends, and then used that as an excuse to drive me, saying, "I just had to see you in that dress outside, in the light." 

Who was I to argue? I got a ride and a limo home. It was pretty much the ideal situation.

Once I got out of my mom's car, I made a beeline for Ned and Cindy, and then the three of us snagged seats in the bleachers. Tony Stark was coming to the school and giving this big speech to us, so we had to sit in the bleachers for a while before we could dance. Nobody was really complaining. Tony freakin' Stark was going to come and talk to us, who'd be upset about that?

I turned to Ned and Cindy. "Is Betty coming tonight?"

Cindy shook her head. "I think her dad's still mad at her, so she's still grounded."

"Hey, look," Ned interjected, "there's Liz and Peter!"

I turned to look at the doors. There they were, arm in arm, Liz looking gorgeous as usual. Her hair was falling in perfect waves, framing her face and draping over her shoulders. Her dress did this romantic _swoosh_ with every step she took. 

The two of them looked at each other and smiled. 

I had to shake myself off a little. There was no way I was jealous of Liz right now. No. Way. 

They sat down next to me. "Oh my god, MJ, you look beautiful! And you, too, Cindy! Your eyeliner is gorgeous."

"Thanks," I half-laughed, still trying to figure out where that jealous pang had come from.

"So," Liz continued, "are you guys going to any after parties? Peter and I were thinking of going to Flash's."

"Nah, but MJ's mom got us a limo, so the three of us will probably just go back to MJ's and hang out," Ned explained. 

"And you guys didn't invite us?" Peter whined jokingly. 

"I thought you were going to Flash's party," Cindy countered.

"He still calls me Penis Parker," Peter responded, looking genuinely dejected. 

I rolled my eyes. "Tell him to grow up, then, Peter."

Liz laughed. "As if that'll work on Flash."

"Is he coming tonight?" Ned asked.

Liz shook her head, but didn't say why. I didn't realize why she didn't respond until everyone started cheering. 

Tony Stark was standing a few feet away from us. 

"Hey, Midtown, how're you doing tonight? Excited to get your prom started?" Excited cheering. "So I've had a lot of insight into the life of a high school student through the kids involved in the internship. I know that you're all sleep-deprived gremlins who live on Red Bull and carbs."

Some kid in the bleachers shouted, "Preach!" 

"I've also learned that a lot of you are very passionate about issues that are happening in this country, and yet my generation has been refusing to listen to you when we know that you guys are the future. We should be listening to you, pushing for the future that you guys want to see. After all, you guys are the ones who have to live with it. My generation and the generation before me have royally screwed up for you. You guys are growing up on a dying Earth, in a terrible economy, and the people in power don't care about you, they just care about their own paychecks. This isn't something any single one of you can change on your own. I don't mean that to sound discouraging, I just mean to tell you the truth. I know you think people like me can fix it single handedly. That because you've grown up with our faces on your TVs with the caption 'hero' it means that that's just who we are and what we do. The harsh reality is that we have an influence, yes, but we are not the government. I wouldn't even call us heroes. I think we all do heroic things, but hero is not a noun, it's a verb. I know each and every one of you has done something heroic, whether it was helping someone across the street or fundraising for charity or standing up to a bully. Just because you're students and you're young and you don't have an Iron Man suit or you weren't experimented on in the 40s doesn't mean you can't be heroic. You're just used to seeing us on your TVs when you should be seeing yourselves. Take care of yourselves, take care of the people you love, and do things that make you proud of who you are. That's all it takes. Goodnight, Midtown, have a wonderful prom."

The room burst into cheers and clapping as Tony Stark walked away. 

"Damn, that's your mentor, Peter," Ned said.

"Yeah. He's usually more sarcastic than that."

I laughed. "Sounds about right."

We got off the bleachers and waited as the gym teachers folded the bleachers back up against the wall. Then, they started blasting music and the lights went down, replaced by strobe lights. The gym went from quiet and respectful to loud and wild in the time it takes to snap your fingers. There were the kids that didn't know how to dance and knew it, standing there bobbing their heads. There were the kids who didn't know how to dance and didn't know it, flailing around like dying walruses. There were the kids that thought they knew how to dance well because they knew a couple of dance routines, so it was the same combination of three or four moves over and over again. There were the kids that just jumped up and down with one fist in the air. There were the kids with actual dance training who were busting out some really good moves. And then, like there is at every high school dance, there were the couples that were slow dancing with each other one minute and grinding on each other the next. 

Peter and Liz stayed and danced with the group, which was nice. I was worried that they were going to go off and dance with each other all night. 

It actually kinda seemed like that's what Liz wanted, but Peter stayed firmly with us, so Liz stayed too. She maybe wasn't as happy about the night as she could've been, but I guess if she really want to go dance alone with Peter, she'd tell him. 

"Ugh, I kinda want punch but I don't want to go  _all the way_ across the gym for it, you feel?" Cindy whined.

"I feel," Ned responded. 

"Me, too," Liz chimed in.

I shrugged. "I can do a punch run, if you want."

"Here, I'll come with you. You can't carry all that punch on your own," Peter said. 

He and I split off from the group and started heading towards the snack table.

"So," Peter said, "no date?"

I shook my head. "No date."

"I find it weird that not a single person asked you out."

"Well, a single person did, but I said no. Also, why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Jesus, MJ, have you seen yourself lately? You're not exactly hard on the eyes."

I looked at him, confused. "What?"

"You heard me. I just- I don't know. I figured someone would've asked you out. Clearly, I was right."

I shook it off. Dwelling on that wasn't going to get me anywhere. 

"So, you and Liz, huh? Are you guys gonna start dating?" I pried. This stupid line for the punch wasn't moving and I wasn't digging the awkward silence.

"What? No, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

Peter shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. "There's just nothing there. I guess I don't have the same feelings for her as I did last year. She's cool, and she's my friend, but I'm not, like, into her like that anymore."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I just figured since you asked her to prom..."

"I didn't ask her. She asked me."

"So you were going to come to prom alone."

"I wouldn't be coming alone. I'm with you and Ned and Cindy. That's not alone."

"Okay, dude. Whatever you say."

We got our punch in silence and our way back to the group. I ended up being the only person left punch-less. It was fine. The punch was always over-sweetened anyways.

Liz and Peter didn't take long to disappear into the crowd, so Ned and Cindy and I danced our hearts out without them. The limo driver was scheduled to get to the school around 10 so at 9:30 the three of us started to try and find Liz and Peter so they could come get food with us. We posted on social media, hoping that'd get their attention, but when that failed, we hit the 'fuck it' button and left without them. We went and got food, and eventually Liz and Peter made their way over to us. 

"This is way better than one of Flash's parties," Liz said, popping a fry into her mouth. "Better food, better company."

"Amen, sistah." Cindy raised her Coke and clinked it (as much as you can clink a plastic cup) against Liz's. 

"So, what do you guys wanna do after this?" Peter asked. 

"My mom's at my aunt's house tonight so we can go back to my place," I suggested. "Make a pillow fort, watch a movie, order some pizza if we get hungry."

Ned shrugged. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"I'm in," Cindy added.

"Me, too."

All eyes were on Liz. "Might as well." 

"Cool. Shall we?"

"Sure."

We all packed up our food and got back in the limo to head back to my place. 

The rest of the night was rather uneventful. We had our fries, made a pillow fort facing the TV, hung out for a bit. At the end of the night, we all fell asleep watching some movie that had popped up on Netflix.

There have been worse proms.


	2. The Docks (and where they went from there)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a filler chapter between some of the more key events in the story line so it's not super juicy (idk who I think I am throwing words like 'juicy' around but I've committed to it) but it does provide some insight into Peter and MJ's friendship and kind of how MJ feels at this point in the story.  
> I know this story is tagged as a slow burn and it might not end up being as slow as I was anticipating, but keep in mind that it feels like a slow burn because I've been like lowkey living it through the rp group since the beginning of May so it won't feel as slow as it actually was. Does that make sense?  
> Anyways so the songs for this chapter are 5 and 6 on the playlist. I definitely would recommend lowering the volume of the music for this chapter cuz I picked more upbeat music and it has a lot of words, so it could get distracting.   
> Without further ado, enjoy chapter two :) I'm cheesy, I know.

**May 26th**

I sat on a bench, drawing idly while I waited for Peter. He was supposed to meet me at the docks today to hang out. I was hoping I might be able to convince him to model for my pride art project. 

The weather was nice right now. Warm, slight breeze, not a cloud in the sky. 

I wasn't really sure what I was drawing. It had started out as a sketch of the skyline, and then I started drawing flowers everywhere. They were sprouting from rooftops, growing through windows, winding around buildings. I wasn't mad at it. I was actually considering turning _this_ into my pride project.

"Hey."

I closed my sketchbook as Peter sat down next to me. "Morning, princess," I responded. 

"Ha. You're so funny. What were you drawing?"

"Oh, nothing important. Buildings, flowers, I don't really know."

"You can't tell the difference between buildings and flowers?"

"No," I laughed, opening my sketchbook to that page. "It's just kind of a mess."

He took the sketchbook out of my hands. "MJ, this is really good. It's beautiful." 

"Thanks. Can I have that back now?"

I reached for it, and he moved it away. "Nope. I'm not done admiring it."

"Peter!" I reached for it again, and this time he stood up. 

"MJ, give us a moment alone," he teased, referring to the sketchbook.

I stood up, so he stood on the bench. I jumped up and tried to grab the sketchbook again, but he closed it and held it over his head. I reached for it, so he jumped, keeping it just out of reach. 

"Peter, don't be a dick." 

"I'm not being a dick. I'm appreciating your artwork."

"Give me my sketchbook back!"

"No!"

I jumped for it, knocking it out of his hands and onto the pavement. He managed to grab it before I did, but he couldn't run away from me fast enough and I managed to grab it and put it in my bag. He sulked. 

"But it's so pretty."

"Don't be such a baby," I joked, sitting back down. 

"Why does everyone think I'm a baby?" he muttered to himself.

We sat for a few minutes, completely silent. 

"There's nothing really happening today, is there?"

"Nope."

"Do you want to go see a movie at the Beacon?"

I shrugged. "Let's do it."

We walked down to the Beacon and watched some coming-of-age movie. The main character was kind of like Harry Potter. Unobservant as hell and kind of bland, but the characters around him were full of personality. The plot kind of sucked in a few ways, though. Dumb, sexist tropes and all of that nonsense. Overall, it was decent. 

"That wasn't great," Peter said as we walked out of the theatre. 

"Kind of dumb," I agreed.

"Is it just me or was the main guy kind of sexist? Like he treated that girl like she couldn't make her own decisions."

I nodded. "I'm glad I'm not the only person who picked up on that. And that stupid trope where the girl starts rambling and the guys kisses her to shut her up. It's not romantic, it's just kind of rude."

He laughed. "God, you're the best."

"Thanks for noticing. Wanna go back to my place?"

"Sure."

We started walking in the direction of my building. 

"So," I started, "have you and Liz gone out since prom?"

"MJ, I told you. I don't like her like that anymore."

"That's a no?"

"It's a no. We haven't even really spoken."

"Really?"

He scoffed. "Is that so hard to believe?"

I hesitated. "I just figured that you'd be jumping at this. Liz likes you, you liked her-"

"Liked," he interrupted. "Past tense."

I decided to keep prying. "So is there anybody else you have your eye on?"

He scoffed, again. "No."

That was a whole-ass lie if I'd ever heard one.

"Absolutely nobody that you're into right now?"

"Nope."

More lying.

"C'mon, Peter, you're my best friend. Tell me."

"I can't." His voice was stiff and uptight. 

"You can't tell me, but there's nothing to tell? That doesn't add up."

He sighed. "MJ, please, just drop it. 

"Okay, okay."

There was a pause. 

"So, you know how Jessie's exchange program just ended?"

"Yeah," Peter said, "what about it?"

"Well, I've just noticed that she and Ned have been hanging out a lot since she's been back."

"They were friends before she left, MJ."

"Yeah, but this seems different. Like, before she left, they were bonding over photography, right?" I asked. I continued without waiting for Peter to answer. "So, when they first started hanging out and doing photoshoots again, it seemed like they were just picking up where they left off. But now, the way that they've been talking about each other, it seems like the photoshoots are just an excuse for them to spend time together." 

"So?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you that dense?"

"What?!"

"When have you ever seen Ned stare at a girl like that? Yeah, you guys used to drool over Liz all the time last year, but this is different."

Peter huffed. "It's not different at all. Jessie's pretty, I'm sure that's it."

"Mhm. So if he started acting that way with me, you wouldn't question it?"

Peter hesitated, then shrugged. "Okay, maybe you're right."

"Ha!"

"Man, Ned'll be so bummed if she doesn't feel the same way."

I groaned. The boy was completely oblivious. "Of course Jessie feels the same way. No girl gives up time with her girl friends to hang out with a guy unless she's seriously into him."

"Is that a real thing?"

"Yeah. Of course."

He frowned. "Huh. Interesting."

We got to my building and I punched in the code at the door.

"Does everyone in the building have the same code?"

"No, it's different for every apartment. Otherwise, when one person moves out, everyone has to learn a different code. This probably makes the landlord's life hell, though."

"Yeah, wouldn't he have to delete that person's code and program in a new one every single time someone moves out or gets evicted? Oh, man, getting evicted from this building must suck."

I laughed. "I think getting evicted sucks in general."

"Fair point."

We took the elevator up to my apartment and I pulled out my door key. 

"See, this way, I only need one key. It's great."

Peter rolled his eyes and followed me into the apartment. I took my shoes off and kinda tossed them next to my mom's sandals. Peter took his off and placed them very carefully next to mine. I tried not to laugh. I couldn't count how many times he'd been over, he still acted like it was his first time over. 

"Hey, kids," my mom called from the kitchen. "How was the movie?"

Peter and I looked at each other. 

"Kind of sexist," Peter told her, wandering into the kitchen. 

My mom laughed. "MJ, hold on to this one. He's aware."

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Woke, Mom. I think the term you're looking for is woke."

"Yeah, but it's grammatically incorrect. Plus, kids always feel weird when their parents know the slang of their generation. I remember my dad telling me how groovy a song was. I almost shot myself."

Peter laughed. 

"So, whatcha cooking, Mom?"

"Just putting together a little care package for your aunt. Her husband got a promotion but he's travelling more, so I figured I'd use this as an opportunity to spend more time with my sister."

"Tell Aunt Denise I said hi." I leaned over the stove to smell the soup she was making. "Also, tell her I'm super jealous that she gets that care package and I don't."

My mom rolled her eyes. "I left fifty bucks on your dresser. Order in."

I hugged her. "You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah. Go play Uno or something with Peter so I can finish this up."

"Love youuuuuuuuu!"

Peter followed me into my bedroom. I pulled my sweater off and hung it up, then flipped up the seat of my window seat and pulled out a few games.

"Okay, so we've got Monopoly, Uno, Trouble, Operation, and Hungry Hungry Hippos," I told him. "Which one do you wanna play?"

"I'm down for Uno," Peter said with a shrug. 

"Uno it is." I tossed him the deck of cards and shoved everything else back into the compartment under the window seat.

Peter sat down cross legged at the end of my bed. "You redecorated since the last time I was here."

"Yeah. I got bored. I didn't go as far as repainting the walls, but I put up some different art, rearranged my lighting in here, fixed the TV so I can just connect it to my laptop instead of using the old Xbox for Netflix, all that jazz."

Peter took a look around. "It looks nice."

"Thanks." 

I started dealing out the cards. 

"You know, this game might ruin our friendship," Peter teased.

"Don't even joke about that. It might. I'm very competitive."

Peter laughed. "I know." 

I grinned, looking at my cards. "You can go first."

"Well, I'm screwed."

I hit him with a couple of skipped turn cards and put down a card.

He didn't have any more cards he could use, so he picked one up. 

I put down a wild card and changed the colour.

Suddenly, he put down five cards and looked really pleased with himself.

I rolled my eyes and hit him with a pick up two cards card and watched his smile fall right off his face. I smiled smugly. "Don't let your guard down, Parker."

"Don't tell me what to do, Jones."

We finished the round (which I won, for the record), played a few more rounds, then got bored and put the cards away.

"Do you want to order a pizza?"

"Sure."

I made him call ("Well, I'm paying, so...") and we started looking through my DVD collection while we waited for the pizza. Finally, after almost half an hour of arguing, we decided on _Beauty and the Beast,_ so Peter popped the disc in my laptop while I buzzed the pizza guy in. I waited by the door with the bill my mom gave me until the pizza guy knocked.

When I say he was cute, I don't mean that in a passing manner. I mean, this boy was _cute_. He was nervous and fumbly, and he had the biggest green eyes on Earth.

And yet, somehow, I wasn't even that attracted to him. Like I could appreciate that he inherited some _good_ genetics, but it wasn't like I was ready to ask him for his number. He was cute, I acknowledged it, paid for the food, and closed the door. 

I brought the stack of boxes into my room. "Okay, we've got the pizza, pasta, some soda, and cheesecake."

"Do you think we went a little overboard?" Peter asked, making himself comfortable on my bed.

"Dude, we had fifty bucks. This didn't even use it up. I think we're fine."

"You're right."

I laid down on the bed next to him and took a picture of our set up for my Instagram, then turned the movie on. 

There was nothing particularly special about the way our day had gone. We'd gotten bored at the docks, seen a lame movie, played card games, and we were just eating pizza and watching a movie, but for some reason, it was the best night of my life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing around with the idea of doing a chapter or two from Peter's POV and maybe doing a couple where you see the same event from both Peter and MJ's perspective. Would you guys enjoy that or should I still to just MJ's POV? Idk lemme know what you think.  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll try to put up another one by Monday.


	3. Dinner "date"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Focusing two chapters in a row solely on Peter and MJ? After specifically stating on my instagram that I wouldn't do that? It's more likely than you think. (Real sorry bout that by the way, I've just been writing what my brain's wanted me to write. I'll get control back after the next week or so)  
> The songs for this chapter are songs 7 and 8. (In case you missed it earlier, there's a spotify playlist that goes with this story called "Chasing Cars - Princess Butter" by user mayashiela. Optional as hell, but also kind of a useful element later on when there's more emotional chapters.)

**June 2nd**

 

"What are you doing tonight?"

I squeaked in surprise and slammed my locker shut. "Peter!"

"Hiding something in there?" he teased.

I crossed my arms. "Yeah, I keep a meth lab in my locker. You scared me, you little shit!"

He scoffed. "I was gonna be nice and offer to take you out for dinner tonight."

"What?"

"Yeah, you know, just because I don't have the internship tonight and I'm done my tests for the week so-"

"Oh, so this is a boredom invite?" I accused, smiling a little despite myself.

He shrugged sheepishly. "Well, kinda."

"You're gonna have to clarify to Ned that it's not a date, because he's really gonna push that agenda."

"I'm aware. You in? We can go to La Marinara."

Now, that was tempting. La Marinara was an Italian restaurant a few blocks away with the best pasta I'd ever tasted. It wasn't super expensive, but it was too much to eat there on a regular basis. 

"As long as it's your treat," I told him.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Then I'll see you tonight, Parker."

I walked past him to my class, trying not to smile as I pushed through the crowds.

When I got home from school, my mom was already there. 

"Hey, why're you home so early?"

"I only had a half-day. Do you wanna watch a movie and order some Chinese food tonight?"

I frowned. "I gotta do some homework and then I'm going out for dinner."

My mom grinned. "Ooh, did that Peter boy finally ask you out?"

"Mom, it's not a date."

"Where are you going?"

Suddenly, the ground was very interesting. "La Marinara," I mumbled. 

"Repeat that?"

"La Marinara," I admitted, louder this time. 

My mom grinned, doing a little happy dance from where she was sitting. "You're going on a _da-ate!_ " she sang. "Can I do your hair?"

"No, you can't, because it's not a date."

"Whatever. Bring him over after, I'll make some pie and you guys can watch a movie."

I rolled my eyes. "Not a date."

"You guys will get there soon enough."

I went into my room and worked on some homework. I couldn't focus, though, all I could hear was my mom's voice in my head, singing about me going on a date with Peter. I huffed, trying to focus. Didn't work. I started playing some background music. Didn't work. Eventually, I was getting restless, so I started doing jumping jacks while reciting physics formulas. 

My phone buzzed. 

Peter: Hey I can pick you up in 15 if that's ok.

Me: yeah sure the door code is 5851 just come upstairs when you get here.

I went to my closet and stared at my clothes. My school clothes were definitely too sloppy for La Marinara. I settled on a pale blue button down, black leggings, and my purple flats that were only a little uncomfortable.

I was still changing when I heard Peter knock on the door. "Mom, can you get that?"

"Sure, honey!"

I heard the muted sounds of Peter walking in and greeting my mom politely. 

"I'll be out in a minute!" I called, buttoning up by shirt.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and grabbed a sweater in case it got cold. 

"Okay, I'm ready to go." I opened the door and grabbed my purse off of the hook at the front door. 

Peter looked a little numb. 

"You look a little out of it, you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Let's go."

"Have fun, kids! Text me when you're on your way home, MJ, so I can put the pie in the oven."

"Alright, thanks, Mom. Love you, see you, bye."

We headed out and closed the door behind us. 

"Sorry if my mom was being weird."

"Oh, she wasn't- it was fine."

I looked at him. "Seriously, Peter, are you okay? You seem kinda stunned."

He hesitated, then opened his mouth to say something, then sighed. "I'm fine."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side of the hallway. He was staring at me with wide eyes. "Parker, I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong."

"Can you just- MJ, you're being ridiculous." 

"Yes, I am, thanks for noticing. What's up."

He looked down, taking shallow breaths. "I didn't do super well on the test I wrote yesterday." It sounded like a lie. 

I let go of his arm. "What'd you get?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Let's just go."

The second we got out of the building and into his car, I stole the AUX cord and plugged it into my phone. I opened my music library and picked the first outrageously upbeat song I could find. For some reason, that was Party In The USA by Miley Cyrus.

Whatever. I was gonna roll with it. I let my phone fall in my lap and turned up the volume. 

"Hopped off the plane at LAX with a dream and my cardigan," I sang, trying to cheer Peter up. "Welcome to land of fame excess, am I gonna fit in?"

He resisted, keeping his grim expression firmly in place. 

"Jumped in the cab, here I am for the first time, looked to my left and I see the Hollywood sign. This is all so crazy, everybody looks so famous."

"MJ, stop, it's not gonna cheer me up," he mumbled.

"My tummy's turning and I'm feeling kinda homesick, too much pressure and I'm nervous," I continued, singing over his negativity. "That's when the taxi man turned on the radio and the Jay Z song was on."

He was starting to crack a smile. 

"And the Jay Z song was on, and the Jay Z song was on." I pulled my ponytail out in one dramatic _fwoosh._

Aaaaaand he broke. 

"SO I PUT MY HANDS UP, THEY'RE PLAYING MY SONG, AND THE BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY. NODDING MY HEAD LIKE YEAH, MOVING MY HIPS LIKE YEAH. I GOT MY HANDS UP THEY'RE PLAYING MY SONG AND YOU KNOW I'M GONNA BE OKAY. YEAH YEAH YEAH, IT'S A PARTY IN THE USA. YEAH YEAH YEAH IT'S A PARTY IN THE USA."

We laughed-yelled-sang our way through the rest of the song, and by the time we pulled into the restaurant's parking lot, Peter was wearing a genuine smile. 

God, it was a good smile. 

"Okay, fine, you cheered me up, happy?" He couldn't even sound upset when he tried. He broke into another smile. "You're terrible at dancing."

I feigned offence. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, you were good at dancing at prom. What happened, MJ?"

"It's Party In The USA. You don't dance _well_ to that song. It's a bad-dancing song," I said defensively, taking my seatbelt off and putting my phone in my purse. 

"Whatever you say, Jones."

"Don't test me, Parker."

We went into the restaurant and got seated right away. When we got seated, they took our drink orders. I ordered an iced tea. Peter ordered a ginger ale, but asked for it in a beer glass "for the aesthetic."

"When was the last time you were here?" Peter asked. "You used to come here all the time."

"I came with my mom for her birthday in April. That was the last time, I think."

"Why'd you stop?"

I shrugged. "School, mostly. My mom and I don't eat out a lot. We've been cooking noodles or ordering take out and watching movies a lot lately."

"Your mom is so cool. I don't get it. Why do you get the cool mom?"

I laughed. "Because she was a vodka aunt before she had me."

"What? No way."

"Yeah, her brother had a kid about five years before my mom got pregnant and moved here."

"Where did she live before?"

I had to think about that. "Somewhere in Arizona, I think. My uncle and cousin still live there, but when my dad found out my mom was pregnant, he left her, so my aunt moved here with my mom."

"Oh, shoot, MJ, that sucks," Peter said. "Do you know your dad?"

"Yeah. He lives in Manhattan with his wife and two kids."

Peter looked down. "You never told me."

The waitress came by just as he said that. "Hey, sorry for the delay, here is your iced tea, miss, and your ginger ale, sir. Are you two ready to order?"

I looked at Peter, knowing his order off by heart. "He'll have the spaghetti and meatballs with extra tomato sauce, and I'll have the fettuccine alfredo, please."

"Absolutely."

The waitress took our menus and walked off. 

Peter looked at me, seriously concerned. "You never told me about any of this."

"Well, congrats, you've unlocked my tragic backstory."

"MJ."

"Peter, I didn't tell you because it's not a big deal. So, I have a deadbeat dad. I don't care. My mom's, like, my best friend. She's awesome. I'd take her over any 'normal' family any day of the week."

He sighed. "Yeah, that makes sense. It's not like you were super emotionally attached to your dad before he left."

"Precisely."

We kept chatting until we got our food, and then we had to stop talking as we ate because it was so. Damn. Good. Twenty minutes of silent eating, apart from the occasional, "oh my god". 

The waitress came back when we were done. "Do you guys want to see a desert menu?" 

"Oh, no thanks. Just the bill."

I pulled my sweater on as we walked to the car, since it was getting chilly out.

On the way back home, I played Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.

"IT'S HARD TO LOOK RIGHT AT YOU BAAAAAAABY, BUT HERE'S MY NUMBER, SO CALL ME MAYBE!"

We were still giggling as we walked into my apartment. My mom was bustling around in the kitchen. 

"Pie's gonna be a few more minutes, guys. Also, I laid out some laundry on the couch, so you'll have to share the loveseat," Mom called. 

"Cool, thanks."

I sat down on the loveseat, leaving enough room for Peter, but he waved me off. 

"I'll sit on the ground."

"Alright," I said, but I left the room on the loveseat anyways.

He sat down in front of the loveseat and passed me the remote from the coffee table. 

"Whatcha wanna watch? I think there's a new John Mulaney special on Netflix."

"Sounds good to me."

The special was an hour and a half. Twenty minutes in, my mom served us each a slice of pie, then cleaned up the kitchen and went into her room. Thirty minutes in, both of our plates were sitting on the coffee table, practically licked clean. Forty minutes in, Peter got uncomfortable on the ground and moved up onto the loveseat with me. An hour in, I started to get a little sleepy, probably from all the food. An hour and ten minutes in, I gave up on trying to stay awake and turned onto my side. I felt Peter's arm fall over my waist. I was too tired to care. 

Neither of us could tell you how that special ended. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to let you guys know that there might be a bit of a gap between chapters coming up. I'm trying to update consistently, but I have a physics final, then a math final, then I'm going to two concerts, all in the span of less than a week. Obviously, none of those things take up a full day, but, like, I also like to interact with other human beings, so this might be the last chapter for about a week. Sorry!  
> On the bright side, we're getting closer to the more exciting chapters (if you want a sneak peek and you don't follow my insta, you should check out @mj.aka.michellejones cuz you'll get to see a lot of stuff before I update on here) and that's the stuff that really motivates me to write and that's when my writing is at its peak so like please keep reading and be patient with me, I promise there's some good spideychelle content coming your way :)  
> Sorry for the big ramble but I felt like I should let you guys know what's happening (as if you care lol) so I'll show myself out now.


	4. The One Where MJ (and Peter) Finds Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to go up! I had a really busy week (finished school, went to two concerts, etc etc) and I was almost done the chapter and then I lost all my progress :( It was pretty upsetting bc I'd spent like 6 hours on it. Anyways, this is finally up and I'll be updating a little more frequently (hopefully) for the next couple weeks. If you want a more reliable way of knowing when each chapter is going up, I put updates on my insta story (@mj.aka.michelljones)  
> The songs for this chapter are 9,10, and 11 on the playlist.  
> Also, all the grammar/punctuation errors in the texts between MJ and Ned are on purpose, just so you guys know and don't call me out on back grammar or anything.  
> Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! Hope you enjoy! :)

**June 5 th **

 

I wish I could tell you why I were doing this, but then I'd have to admit it to myself, and let's be honest, I'm the most emotionally unavailable person in Queens.

I adjusted the string lights that I was hanging in the branches of a tree and plugged them in. They lit up, giving the whole patio a warm glow.

My apartment complex had a patio that you could book for private events, so I booked it off and set up a nice little table under the tree. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but it looked gorgeous. I took a picture and put it on my Instagram.

"MJ, I took the casserole out of the oven for you," Mom said, bringing glasses and cutlery. 

"Thanks."

She put everything on the table, then stepped back and looked at the set up. "If Peter doesn't ask you out after this, he never will."

I sighed. "Mom, it's not a date."

She rolled her eyes. "This is the most romantic not-date in history."

"It's not romantic! It's just pretty."

She gave me a look, like I was the dumbest girl in New York. Maybe I was. "It's pretty romantic, Michelle."

"MJ."

"Sorry. MJ. Anyways, you might want to head upstairs and finish up in the kitchen."

I took another look at the table. It looked perfect. "You're right."

I started to head back into the building. My mom admired our set up. "MJ! Do you want me to fold the napkins? Don't answer that, I'm gonna fold the napkins."

I laughed. "Okay, Mom."

One short elevator ride later, I was upstairs in the kitchen, making sure the pasta casserole was done to perfection. Once I was absolutely satisfied with it, I made some iced tea. Peter was supposed to get here in about five minutes, so I was in a bit of a rush, but I got it all done in time.

And then he was late, you know, like a dingus.

I put the lid on my pot of casserole and put it back in the oven to keep it warm. Put the iced tea in the fridge with some ice and hoped Peter would get here soon.

He showed up 35 minutes late…with his dog, Thwip.

I couldn’t even be mad.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I had to walk Thwip and my phone glitched, so I thought it was earlier than it is-”

“It’s okay, Peter,” I laughed, gesturing for him to come in. I don’t know why I let him off the hook so easily. Normally, I would’ve held that against him and made fun of him or held it over his head or something.

But I didn’t. And he looked as confused as I felt.

“You can just let Thwip into my room.”

“Thanks.” He brought Thwip into my room and let her off her leash. She jumped up on my bed, curled up, and fell asleep immediately. He rolled his eyes, smiling. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

I went back into the kitchen and took the casserole out of the oven. “Peter, can you get the pitcher out of the fridge?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He went to the fridge and got it out, then headed to the table.

“Peter,” I said. “We’re not eating in here.”

“What?”

“Just follow me.”

I led him downstairs and out to the patio. When he opened the door and took a look, his jaw dropped.

“MJ…I-I don’t- this-this is-”

“Peter, spit it out.”

He didn’t say anything, just walked forwards, put the pitcher on the table, and looked up at the lights, smiling the biggest, warmest smile I’d ever seen. He reached up and lifted part of the string onto a branch.

My stomach was doing all kind of gymnastics now.

Dammit.

“Sit down, you nerd.”

I put the pot down on the table and scooped some casserole out onto his plate, and then scooped some onto mine. Peter poured the iced tea into both of our glasses. I moved the pot off the table onto a nearby bench, so it wouldn’t take up the whole table and sat down.

“MJ, how long did you spend on this?”

I shrugged. “My mom helped me out, so it didn’t take too long. Dig in.”

He took his first bite and sighed. “This is amazing. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well, I don’t go cooking for anybody all willy-nilly.”

Peter looked at me, eyes growing wider. “So, why’d you cook for me?”

Oh, no. I didn’t know how to answer this for myself, let alone for him.

“You’ve been nice lately. It’s positive reinforcement,” I lied.

He looked down, like he was almost disappointed. Great.

I made some stupid joke to put a smile back on his face, and then dinner went smoothly. At least, on the surface it was going smoothly. On the inside, I was panicking. I seemed to have feelings for him, and worse, they seemed to be well developed and quite strong. Every time he looked at me, I wanted to smile. It was ridiculous. I was smiling every three seconds, and my stomach was starting to hurt from laughing so hard. This whole “having emotions” thing was a real drag. I was gonna have to deal with this at some point. Hopefully on my deathbed. That’d be ideal.

Peter had his plate practically licked clean by the time he was done. “That was amazing.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“So, what’s the real reason behind why you did all of this?”

“I told you, it’s positive reinforcement.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “That sounds like bullshit.”

I squinted at him. “Ooh, language, Parker!”

Peter laughed, which was the most beautiful thing ever. “There’s the smartass I know and love.”

What I said: “You look tired. Let’s clean up and get you upstairs before you go into a food coma and I have to carry you up.”

What I was thinking as I said that: _whattheshitwhattheshittingfuckwhatthehelldoeshemeanhelovesmewhatinthelivingfuckamisupposedtodoabouthatfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_

It took a couple trips up and down the elevator, but we cleaned up everything, put all the dishes in the dishwasher, and packed up the leftovers.

The second we were done, Peter made a beeline for my room and got on the bed with Thwip. Thwip woke up and cuddled up next to him.

“Wow, Peter, colonizing my bed? Really?” I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I’ll get up in a minute, I just wanted to see Thwip.”

I laughed. “It’s fine.”

“Actually, do you mind if I crash here tonight? May’s staying with a friend from her book club tonight and I don’t wanna walk back to an empty apartment.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I’ll get some blankets and stuff and put them on the couch for you.”

“Thanks, MJ. You’re the best.”

“Just don’t fall asleep before I get back,” I joked, walking out of the room.

Unfortunately, I jinxed it. I got him a blanket and a pillow out of the storage closet and dumped them on the couch, which took maybe a minute, and by the time I got back to my room, Peter was fast asleep. Poor Thwip was trapped under his arm, still awake.

My first thought was to take a picture. You know, to hold over his head later.

After I did that, I sat down on the window seat. I was gonna have to sleep on the couch, and while that wasn’t a fantastic thought to me, I couldn’t even be mad at Peter. God, I was so screwed. I was sitting on the window seat staring at a boy who was sleeping on my bed.

I didn’t think I’d ever seen him relaxed like this. He always seemed a little tense, like he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders but didn’t want us to know. Even when we were just hanging out or partying, he seemed stressed. I hadn’t even really noticed how tense he was until he wasn’t.

Maybe a few weeks ago I would’ve woken him up, moved him to the couch, and gone to bed, but I didn’t want to wake him up.

I didn’t even want to leave. I honestly considered sleeping on my tiny window seat, just so I could fall asleep looking at him.

I sucked it up, picked up my phone charger, and left, bringing the door closed behind me.

I plugged in my phone and turned the volume up on my alarm since it was across the living room from me, and laid down on the couch, shifting my pillow and pulling blankets over me. There was this weird, uneasy, floating feeling in my chest. As though my heart didn’t know whether or be broken or not.

I told myself I’d talk to Ned tomorrow, as much as it would pain me to discuss my emotions, and then I went to sleep.

**June 6 th**

My phone was going off. My first instinct was to roll over and hit the “snooze” button. However, I was on a couch, so I rolled off and hit my arm on the coffee table.

“OW!”

I heard my mom laughing as she came out of her bedroom. “Oh, honey. How’s the doghouse?”

“Ha. Ha ha. You’re so funny.”

“I know.” She laughed, walking to the kitchen and making her morning coffee. I got up and turned off my alarm and stretched. “I might end up staying with your aunt tonight. She called me after midnight and left a voicemail. All I could hear was _Desperate Housewives_ and ugly crying.”

“You can tell she’s ugly crying by how she sounds over the phone?”

My mom gave me a look as she put some creamer in her coffee and put the lid on her travel mug. “Have you ever seen her cry? She’s not a pretty crier unless it’s a single-dramatic-tear situation.”

“You’re right, my bad,” I laughed.

“Alright, hun, I gotta go. I’ll text you later.”

“Sounds good.”

I watched her walk out the door, then went to my room and knocked on the door.

No answer.

Slowly, I turned the handle and pushed the door open. Peter was still fast asleep, in the same position.

“Peter,” I said, walking into the room. He didn’t move. “Peter, wake up,” I repeated, louder this time. I shook his shoulder. Nothing.

This kid was dead.

I texted the Midtown group chat, desperately asking for advice.

In the time it took me to put my blanket and pillow away, and make a stack of pancakes, Peter still hadn’t woken up. However, Ned had hit me with some advice. Apparently, playing the Imperial March from Star Wars worked on Peter every time.

Nerd.

I went back into his room and blasted it from my phone.

He slowly stirred, groaning.

“What time is it?”

“It’s eight thirty. The buses at school leave for our field trip at ten. Now, I don’t mind missing the first half hour of first block, but I don’t want to drive all the way to the Avengers base. So, get up, eat some breakfast, and get ready to go because we have to stop by your place so you can drop off Thwip and get changed,” I ordered.

He stared at me, gears turning in his head.

“Dude! Get out of my room! I gotta change.”

“Right, right. Sorry. Come on, Thwip.”

He practically fell off the bed. On his way out, I said, “There’s pancakes in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

I quickly changed into the first thing I could see, then went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and put my hair up in a bun. After that, I went out into the kitchen, packed myself a lunch of leftovers, shoved it in my bag, and grabbed my keys off the key hook by the door. Peter was putting his dishes in the dishwasher.

There was a pang in my chest. My brain was doing this awful thing, imagining us sharing an apartment after high school or something.

I shook it off. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, lemme just put the leash on Thwip.”

He grabbed the leash out of his backpack and clipped it on.

I opened the door. “Ladies first.”

“That’s sexist, you know.”

“I was referring to Thwip, not you, loser.”

He rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath about how it was still kinda sexist.

We drove over to his apartment and he ran in and told me to just stay in the car. So, I did. I jammed out to my music and waited exactly eight minutes and forty-two seconds for him to return.

We just barely made it to the school on time. There were two buses, and so our friend group was split up between them. I was texting Ned furiously, telling him that no, I did not sleep in the bed with Peter last night, I slept on the couch. I did learn via the group chat that Jessie had spent the night at Ned’s which did turn the tables in my favour. It didn’t last long, though, because then I asked Ned why he wanted Peter and I to be together so badly, and it changed the whole tone of the conversation.

 

Ned: …because come on mj

Ned: You do too

Ned: Deep down

Me: That’s a reach

Me: We’re friends, Ned

Ned: Whatever you say

 

I paused before I typed the next message out. I hated to show my hand like this, but I had to know.

 

Me: Wait does Peter…ship it??

Ned: I’ll make sure to include this in my best man speech at you and Peter’s wedding

Me: Do you know????

 

He was dancing around the point and it was making me nervous.

 

Ned: I don’t think you can ship yourself…

Ned: Idk ask him

Ned? Not knowing something in Peter’s life? Bullshit.

Me: OF COURSE YOU KNOW HE TELLS YOU EVERYTHING

Me: NED TELL ME

Ned: You didn’t deny liking him so

 

That’s because denying it would be lying.

 

Me: NED

Ned: IT HASN’T COME UP I SWEAR

 

After that, I talked him into asking Peter for me. At this point, it was 11 and we were almost at the Avengers base. I tried to ignore my anxiety and watched out the window as we got closer.

When the bus stopped, I got up and ran off, and spent the day keeping my face as neutral as possible, avoiding Ned and Peter at all costs. The field trip was split into four or five touring groups, and it split up the whole squad. I think Cindy was in my group, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy trying to keep that conversation off of my mind. I was going to have to find out today if Peter felt the same way about me as I did about him, and there were a million thoughts racing through my mind. Peter didn’t know how I felt. I was pretty sure he’d never guess, either. I wouldn’t guess he did. After all, he spent sophomore year pining after Liz, and now she seemed to have feelings for him.

Oh, no. I had to talk to Liz.

It wouldn’t be cool of me to suddenly confess my feelings for Peter if she’s still trying to make something happen between them. With their history? It was basically a girl code violation.

I waited around forever for her to respond but she didn’t. Eventually, I checked my phone to see if she’d texted back and I hadn’t noticed, but instead I saw that Peter had updated his Instagram story. There was a screenshot of a conversation he’d had with Ned, saying he had feelings for me.

Panicked, I messaged Peter, asking him where he was. The second he messaged me back, I ran to where he was.

There was a lake in the woods behind the base, and apparently Peter was sitting on the docks.

I headed over there as fast as I could, slowing down when I could see him. He was sitting with his feet over the edge of the docks, his back curved and his head down. Shit, he was upset.

I sat down next to him, glad that the water was low enough that it wasn’t soaking my shoes.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he responded. He was quiet.

“You okay, Parker?”

Even his breathing was shaky. “Just mourning the death of this friendship.”

I wanted to laugh, say something along the lines of “calm down, edgelord,” or something sarcastic like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

“I’m not going to ignore you because of those texts.”

“Why? Now I’m that one weird friend who has feelings for you so it makes it awkward and you can never hang out with me again without the whole thing being really uncomfortable,” he rambled, still refusing to look up. He was swinging his legs like a kid.

“Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath, “and so am I.”

There was a long pause. Then, slowly, Peter looked up at me. “What?”

Now I couldn’t look at him. “It’s stupid, but I kinda realized that I have feelings for you, too. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t really pay attention.”

The lake was really beautiful. It was small, and surrounded by the woods, and just looked perfect for swimming.

“You do?”

“God, please don’t make me say it again. Having emotions is so embarrassing.”

He laughed.

Then, there was a long stretch of silence. Things physically felt different. The air was thicker, or maybe that was just me.

Before I gave my mouth permission, it was saying, “But I don’t want things to change. It’s good right now, you know? And I don’t want us to date, and then have a really awful breakup, and have to stop being friends.”

He swallowed. “Y-yeah. No, I get it. For sure. I agree.”

We had both just lied our asses off to each other. Bold-faced lies.

But neither of us said anything. There was another long stretch of silence.

“What if we did want to, like, go on a date or something after finals? Like, just to see what that would be like?” Peter asked. His voice was all soft and it almost sounded like he wanted to cry. Almost.

“Yeah. That makes sense. Test drive this whole…thing.”

“Yeah. Test drive.”

We sat there for another five or ten minutes, before Ned texted Peter.

“The buses leave in a few minutes. We should go.”

“What time is it?”

He showed me his phone screen. 2:30.

I got up, and waited for him to get up, and we walked back to the buses together. We had to go back on the bus we came on, so I went, waving goodbye to Peter.

It took over an hour to get back to school, and then I got into my car and drove back home. I did some homework, did some studying, watched a movie with my mom, and then pulled out my sketchbook and tried to work on my pride project. I’d decided on using a screenshot from a clip on the news. There was a protest outside a gay bar the other night, and Spider-Man had been there to give some of the protesters shit. It was quite the image. I ended up deciding on a vibrant rainbow colour theme for Spider-Man, rather than his usual red and blue, and a pastel rainbow colour theme for the rest of the image. It took me hours to do my first sketch of it, and by then it was midnight.

I couldn’t get the events of the day out of my head, so I figured a good midnight walk would help me out. I left a note on the coffee table for my mom, made sure I had a flashlight and some pepper spray, and headed out. I walked around for a long time. At one point, I took a picture for my Instagram, and Peter commented, telling me to go to sleep. I made some snarky comment about how he should go to sleep first instead of telling me what to do, and put my phone away.

I didn’t go back home until almost two in the morning, but then I slept soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all one last thing. I wasn't really sure how to format the texting so I kinda just didn’t but if you have a better idea, lemme know. Thanks!


	5. After Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all I'm back to updating on a somewhat regular schedule like I did before Hell Week so hey have another chapter. I'll probably put up chapter 6 today too bc I'm bored and I already have it written (I stayed up until 1am and wrote 26 pages of material so you're getting all of it)  
> Btw there might be some typos bc I wrote these chapters late at night and everyone who proofread was also staying up late so hopefully it's fine but I'll fix any mistakes as I notice them.   
> The songs for this chapter are 12, 13, and 14 on the playlist.

**June 15 th **

Before I get started on the next few events, lemme give you a brief overview of the events between June 7th and now.

The day after the field trip, Peter and I went out for chicken nuggets. It took me twelve minutes to convince my mom that it wasn’t a date.

The day after that, Ned and Peter and I were supposed to go see _Solo: A Star Wars Story_ together. Ned bailed because he was “sick” (read: tried to force Peter and I on a date. Didn’t work.) It took fifteen minutes to convince my mom that it wasn’t a date.

The day after that, Peter and I hung out (I said it was because I wanted to see his dog. It was a lie.) and took Thwip out for a walk. We got rained on. It took almost half an hour to convince my mom it wasn’t a date.

On the 12th, Peter and I studied and went out for dinner. It took five minutes to convince my mom it wasn’t a date (she was starting to lose hope).

Then, exams started, and none of us had time to hang out. However, in order to get Jessie to study, we made a bet. If she got over 95 on two exams, I’d kiss Peter on the cheek. If she got over 95 on all her exams, I’d kiss Peter on the lips.

Peter didn’t hesitate to agree, but he did make sure to sound like he wasn’t jumping on the opportunity.

Deep down, I wanted Jessie to get just enough for me to kiss Peter on the cheek. I didn’t want to do the kiss on the lips because of a bet, but I guess that’s why I made it so hard for her. 

She managed to get 95 on most of her exams, but not all, which meant I had to kiss Peter on the cheek.

Now you’re all caught up.

On the last day of exams, everyone agreed to come back to my place for a mini exams-are-over-and-we-have-a-will-to-live-again party. So, after my last exam, I went out and bought as many snacks as I could afford. It took me two trips up to my apartment to bring up all the snacks.

“Mom, my friends are coming over tonight. We’ll try not to make a mess.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, you kids are responsible. Is Peter gonna stay over again? Because if he is, he can take my room. I’m at Denise’s tonight anyways,” she said, coming out of her room and grabbing a chocolate bar that was on the counter.

“I mean, we didn’t plan on him staying over, but he seems to crash here all the time, so I’d say he probably will.”

She unwrapped the chocolate bar. “The key to the liquor cabinet is in my jewelry box. Maybe don’t open it before your friends leave, though. Just you and Peter.”

“Oh, no. Why?”

She shrugged, and mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate, “I’m hoping it’ll give you guys a nudge in the right direction.”

I sighed. “As ticked as I am that you’re still pushing that agenda, I’m still gonna use that key once everyone’s gone. What’s the limit?”

Mom thought about it, putting the rest of the chocolate bar in her purse and heading to the fridge. “I don’t know. You guys can share a bottle of the expensive stuff or you can each have a bottle of the cheap stuff. As long as you’re not super hungover tomorrow because I’m picking up the new dog tonight and I don’t want his first impression of you to be…that.” She pulled a container of leftovers out of the fridge and headed towards the door to put on her shoes.

“Understood.”

“Alright. You kids have fun. There’s condoms in the medicine cabinet if you need them.”

“Mom!”

“I’m just saying! I’d rather you be safe than anything.”

I groaned.

“Have a good night, kiddo. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

She grabbed her keys and left. All I could think was that my mom was a wild, wild woman.

I cleaned up the kitchen and did a load of laundry before everyone came over.

Cindy, and Betty were first, followed by Ned and Peter. We ended up ordering pizza, which I made everyone else pay for since I spent $80 in snacks. At some point, we found a deck of cards and played poker with potato chips instead of poker chips. I beat Peter in every single round we played that night.

I’d texted Peter after my mom left and told him about her offer, leaving out the bit about the condoms and everything, and he agreed to stay after everyone left and get drunk with me. So, after a few hours, when everybody started to peel off, Ned asked him, “Peter, you coming with us or am I walking home?” Peter shook his head.

“I’ll stay here for a bit, man, thanks.”

“Be safe!” Cindy told us.

“Use protection!” Betty added.

I flipped them off as they walked out the door, then went into my mom’s room and got the key for the liquor cabinet.

“So, what’s it gonna be, Parker? Do we wanna get drunk or do we want wine that tastes good?”

Peter laughed. “Let’s get drunk, I guess.”

I grabbed two bottles of the cheapest wine in the cabinet and handed one to Peter.

“Don’t we need a corkscrew for this?”

I shook my head. “This is the super cheap stuff with a screw-on cap.”

He scrunched his nose. I could feel my heart skip a beat and took off the cap of my wine. The faster I got drunk, the faster this would go away.

I tipped the bottle back and took a few good gulps. It didn’t taste godawful. It just wasn’t good by anybody’s standards.

“How is it?”

I shrugged, wishing I was more of a lightweight than I was. “It’s not the worst I’ve ever had.”

He looked at me, then the bottle in my hand, then his bottle, then unscrewed the lid and took a gulp.

“Oh, yeah, that’s bad.”

“It’s 20% alcohol.”

He took another gulp. “Not bad enough for me to avoid that.”

I laughed.

“We should take some selfies or something. For Instagram. Shove it in everyone’s faces that they don’t get to be in on this.”

He grinned. “Let’s do it.”

We took a couple selfies, and then I poured some of his wine in a glass and took a picture of him looking very classy.

It took a few more minutes and a couple more gulps of wine, but the alcohol started to hit us. We sat on the ground in the kitchen, playing stupid games like truth or dare, or would you rather.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Peter decided.

I thought about it. “If Ned were a girl, would you date him?”

“What?”

“Like, if all of Ned’s personality and everything were in a girl’s body, would you be attracted to her?”

Peter laughed. “God, no. Ned’s a good friend, but we have too much in common to date. It’d be weird, too, because she’d be like one of the guys, you know? Like, you’re not as into Star Wars as Ned is, but you still share that interest to an extent. You’ll see the movies with me, but you won’t spend three hundred bucks on a Lego Death Star just to build for fun. I dunno, I couldn’t date a girl Ned.”

“Hold on, Ned blew three hundred bucks on a Lego Death Star? What a nerd.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, your turn. Truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

He stared at me. “I can’t think of anything.”

I groaned. “This is why I’ll only play this game with you when you’re drunk. You’re so lame about it.”

He frowned playfully at me, his cheeks rosy from the wine. “Get me a bag of chips.”

“God, that’s the tamest dare ever. You never pick something that’s like, I don’t know, take off your shirt or make out with this person or-“

“You want something better?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Let’s follow through on that bet with Jessie.”

“What?”

“Kiss me on the cheek. We’ll take a photo of it and you have to post it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

We set my phone up on the counter and put it on a timer. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, holding my lips there until Peter shifted.

“It took the photo.”

I pulled away and turned to get my phone. I swore I saw him touch his cheek out of the corner of my eye, but then again, I was pretty drunk. I was halfway through my bottle of wine and it wasn’t a light alcohol content wine.

I posted the photo with some dumb caption aimed at Jessie, and turned to Peter.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

I grinned. “Tie your shirt to the fire escape.”

“You just want me to take it off so you can stare at my muscles,” he teased.

I shrugged. “I dared you. You gotta do it.”

He was holding eye contact with me now, then licked his bottom lip and pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion.

I was reminded by a voice in my head of the condoms in the medicine cabinet. I shook that off.

“Come on, Peter, fire escape.”

“You’re not even gonna comment on my muscles?”

“You know, you’re a cocky drunk,” I told him, heading for the window.

“Oh, am I? You’re a flirty drunk.”

“I’m not flirty ‘cause I’m drunk.”

He grabbed me arm and spun me around, then advanced on me, effectively backing me against the wall. “Then why are you flirty?” He smirked. God, if my heart wasn’t about to pound out of my chest.

I reached behind me and pulled the window up and pushed him towards it. “Because I’m an asshole.”

He scoffed, stepping out of the window and tying his shirt to the balcony.

“You can have it back before we go to bed,” I told him.

“Are you serious?”

“That’s the dare. Take it or drink up.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” I said, smug. I wasn’t about to let him dare me after that little fiasco.

“Do you know what you’re gonna do after high school?”

“You could ask me anything and you chose that?”

“You’ve never told me!”

I rolled my eyes. “Fair enough. I’m gonna do psychology at NYU.”

“Really? Psych? I never would’ve thought you’d enjoy that.”

“You never guessed that I enjoy psychoanalyzing people?”

“Actually, that’s fair.”

We sat down on the couch and drank in silence for a while. Peter had maybe a third of his bottle left when he excused himself to the bathroom. I was slowly thinking over everything that had happened between us over the course of the last few weeks and realizing that this friendship wasn’t good enough for me.

If I told him now, he probably wouldn’t remember. He was a bit of a blackout drunk.

I chugged more wine, until there was only an inch or so left in the bottle, and waited for him to come back.

When he did come back, it seemed as though the alcohol he’d just had was hitting him hard, because he was having a harder time walking than before and slurred when he spoke.

“MJ, I have a really big secret.” He paused. “But I can’t tell you because then I’d have you kill you.”

I stared at him. “Then why tell me you have a secret?”

He looked out the window, and watched his shirt flutter in the breeze. “I really wanna tell you my secret, MJ, but I can’t. It sucks.”

I frowned. “Why is it such a big secret?”

It was his turn to frown. He looked intently at his bottle of wine. “I know who Spider-Man is.”

He fell silent. I closed my eyes, and took a breath.

“Peter?

“Yeah?’

I paused, unable to get the words out. I took the last swig of my wine and started over.

“Peter, I shouldn’t’ve told you I just want to be friends.”

I immediately regretted saying it.

“What?”

“No, forget it. Never mind.”

“No, you said you don’t want to be friends. Is that why you asked me to stay late? Because you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

There were tears gathering in his eyes. I reached forward and grabbed his arm.

“No, no, that’s not- you misunderstood me. I don’t want- I- I said I didn’t want anything to change but I do.”

“When did you…?”

“On the field trip. At the lake. I told you we shouldn’t date because I didn’t want us to stop being friends.”

He averted his eyes. I let go of his arm.

“MJ, I really like you-“

“Oh, no.”

“No, I just- I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone and it’s really scary.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want things to change but I don’t want things to stay the same. I don’t know what I want. Sometimes I want to-to grab you and kiss you… and sometimes I can’t even look at you.”

My heart swelled with hope and then broke, all in the same breath. I couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“Why can’t you look at me?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just- it’s a lot. I don’t know how to cope.”

He stopped talking. I curled up on my side of the couch and stared out the window.

“MJ.”

“What?”

“It’s not like there are days when I don’t have feelings for you, it’s just that there are days when those feelings are too much and all I can think is that I can’t have you because you don’t want me.”

But hadn’t I just told him that I wanted him? Wasn’t that exactly what I just said?

I shouldn’t have said anything. God, I felt sick.

Actually, I felt really sick all at once.

I got up and ran to the bathroom. Peter ran in after me, holding my hair back as I started puking up that cheap wine. It didn’t taste any better the second time around.

When my stomach had successfully gotten rid of half of that bottle of wine and most of the snacks I’d eaten that evening, I sat up and closed my eyes.

“Thanks for holding my hair back,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome. Come on, stand up, you should brush your teeth and wash your face and all that.”

I groaned. “I don’t wanna.”

He sighed. “Shit, you’re wasted, aren’t you?”

I nodded, eyes still closed.

He basically had to pick me up and hold me upright while he brushed my teeth for me. I kept thinking I should grab the toothbrush and do it myself, but my arms were limp noodles and honestly, I was too drunk to do a good enough job anyways.

“Spit,” he ordered, holding my hair back. I spit into the sink. No wonder he rejected me. He filled a glass with water. “Rinse.” I took a long sip, swished the water around, and spat into the sink. Geez, I was gross. Here he was, the sweetest guy on Earth, holding my hair back, brushing my teeth, taking care of me way beyond what he needed to. “Where are your makeup wipes? You shouldn’t go to sleep without taking off your makeup.”

“I can take my makeup off.”

He looked at me, almost sad. “No, you can’t. Just tell me.”

I sighed. “First drawer.”

He opened the drawer, took out a makeup wipe, and gently scrubbed my makeup off. When he was done, I let my head fall forward, resting my forehead on his bare shoulder.

“You’re the best. I love you,” I mumbled.

“I love you too, MJ, now let’s get you to bed.”

He practically carried me to my bed, and sat me down on the edge of it.

“I’m gonna go get my shirt and go to bed. Do you need anything else?”

I shook my head. He looked at me.

“You need water.”

It was clear that he was pretty hammered, too, but he was struggling to keep it together for my benefit.

When he left the room, I pulled off my pants, because nobody with any self-respect sleeps in their jeans. He came back as I was balling them up and throwing them into my laundry basket.

Peter averted his eyes.

I wondered about Cindy's shirt rule, and if it applied to pants.

“Drink this.” He handed me a glass of water. I took a sip and then put it on my nightstand.

“Thanks, Parker.”

“Whatever, Jones. Next time I’m drinking more than you so you have to take care of me.”

“Deal.”

He hesitated, then put one hand on the back of my head and kissed my forehead.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, turning around to hide his blush.

“Goodnight.”

He closed the door behind him. I heard him open the window, cross the creaky fire escape, cross it again, and close the window. Once I heard my mom’s bedroom door close, I crawled under the covers of my bed and fell fast asleep, wishing I’d known how to keep my goddamn mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K maybe I'm biased cuz I wrote this but ahhhhh I love this chapter its so cute   
> You guys are gonna like the next chapter more (I hope???)   
> Anyways that's all folks see you in 20 minutes because I'm putting up chapter six today thanks byeee


	6. A Very Stark Gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want y'all to be prepared so two warnings.  
> 1) This is the chapter with sexual assault and harassment so if that's a potential trigger for you, please me cautious and aware and do whatever you need to do to take care of yourself. It's very minor and non-graphic, but I want you guys to be aware nonetheless.  
> 2) Maybe get some tissues? Cuz I cried writing it so you might cry reading it. It's cute, that's all.  
> The songs for this chapter are 15-18 on the playlist. They might run a little long so if you get to the dancing part of the chapter and you still haven't hit 18, just skip to it. This is one of the chapters where the playlist does have a stronger effect so I would recommend finding it on Spotify if you haven't already.  
> I hope you guys enjoy!

**June 16 th **

I woke up when my mom got home.

Thank goodness I puked the night before because my hangover was quite mild. I drank the rest of the water that was on my nightstand, quickly got dressed, and went out into the living room. My mom was holding our new dog, Murphy, a little black schnauzer who seemed to grin at me.

“Awwww, he’s so cute!”

My mom handed him to me. He started licking my face.

“He’s pretty great. How was your night?”

All at once, I remembered how crappy it was. I tried not to let it show. “Pretty good. We played some poker and stuff. It was fun.”

“You’re not too hungover?”

I looked at the two empty bottles on the coffee table. “I’m okay. I should probably put those in recycling.”

“I got it. You should stay here and get to know Murphy a little. Also, his bed is going in your room.”

“I’m perfectly okay with that.”

I got Murphy’s dog bed out of a bag by the front door and put it in the corner of my room. I closed my closet door so he couldn’t chew up any of my shoes or clothes, and put him down. He stomped around on the bed a little, then looked at me expectantly. I smiled and picked him up again. He could not have come at a better time. This new dog was wiping my memory of how bad my night was.

It was just a bad night. I’d get over it.

I brought Murphy into the bathroom while I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and put on some makeup, then kicked him out when I had to pee. He whined at the door for the whole two minutes we were apart, and then jumped around and wagged his tail when I opened the door.

We ended up sitting on the couch and watching TV for a few hours. I took a picture of him for my Instagram. We had a good morning.

I was all too aware of Peter, who was still asleep in my mom’s room. He probably had a killer hangover. I just hoped he didn’t remember anything.

He stumbled out of my mom’s room, a couple hours after my mom and Murphy got here. My mom was sitting at the table reading a book, but put it down when he emerged.

“Morning, Peter!”

“Good morning, Ms. Jones.”

“How was your night?”

He blinked. “Good. Really good.”

Yep. He couldn’t remember a thing.

He made some passing comment to me and excused himself.

“Wow, he was hungover,” my mom laughed. “Charming even after a wild night.”

I smiled. “Yep.”

I waited an hour or two, and then texted Peter to make sure he got home safe. He said he did, and that he was struggling with his hangover, and that he didn’t remember anything after Cindy, Betty, and Ned leaving. I could finally breathe again.

Then, he asked me to a gala that Tony Stark was holding that night. As friends.

It stung. But I agreed to go.

“Hey, Mom? Is it cool if I go to a gala with Peter tonight?”

“What kind of gala?”

“A Stark Industries gala.”

She put her book down. “Oh my god, really? Oh, I have the perfect wig for you!”

She ran into her room and brought out this short, curled wig. “This and a long dress would be perfect! What time is the gala?”

I checked my phone. “Uh, about six.”

She looked at the time. “It’s almost three! Find something to wear!”

My mom was ridiculously excited about this gala and she wasn’t even going, but she had a good time helping me with the wig and I felt like we bonded a little.

“Okay, I gotta take Murphy to the vet to make sure he has all his shots. Text me when you’re leaving!”

The woman was hyper. Damn. She was out the door before I could respond.

I took my time getting ready, since I knew if I rushed I’d screw up and it’d take me longer. I had to consult the Midtown group chat to find something to wear. Before I knew it, there was a limo outside my building. I went downstairs and the chauffer asked my name.

“MJ. Uh, Michelle Jones.”

He opened the door for me. I hesitated. I’d never been in a limo this fancy.

“Miss, it won’t bite,” he said kindly.

I got into the limo, thanking him quietly. He drove us to Peter’s apartment and we picked him up and headed upstate. The drive took about an hour, and you could feel the tension between Peter and I. It was palpable.

“How’s your head?”

He paused. “Good. It’s fine. I took some Advil so I’m fine.”

I shut my mouth. Opening it was what got us here in the first place. I was the dumbass who ruined everything, and I had the curse of remembering while he was blissfully unaware.

When we got to the Avengers base, there was paparazzi waiting for us. Peter seemed almost used to it. Uncomfortable, but unfazed. He opened the door for me and held out his arm for me. I took it and kept my head down until we got in. He lead me into this big dining hall that was absolutely filled to the brim with rich old white guys and their wives. I leaned into Peter, whispering, “You’re gonna have to keep me away from some of these guys or I’m gonna end up telling them how terrible this country is and how they should fix it.”

Peter laughed. “I’ll keep you away from any senators.”

He led me to a small table and we sat down.

“So, what’s this whole gala for, exactly?”

Peter bit his lip. “I-I-I don’t know, to be honest. I just know that it’s some big excuse for Mr. Stark to get up there and give some big, ‘Hey the youth are angry and it’s probably because you’re all assholes,’ speech. I wouldn’t be surprised,” he sighed.

“How many of these do you get invited to?”

“Uh, a couple a month.”

“A month?!”

He shushed me, laughing that stupidly beautiful laugh. “Keep it down, oh my god. It’s not a huge deal. I can’t go to all of them, anyways. This is the first one I’ve gone to since March.”

“Jesus, Peter, you decline some of these invites?”

“Well, yeah. Mr. Stark puts this big emphasis on, like, taking care of myself and my grades and stuff.”

I looked at him, baffled. “If I were invited to these several times a month, I’d go every single time.”

He rolled his eyes. “You say that, but you’d get used to them.”

The room went quiet as Tony Stark took the podium. He gave this long speech about the value of our planet and the time we should invest into it. He kind gave the senators shit for not being eco-friendly. It was this big, polite, fuck you. It was amazing.

Afterwards, we got small meals, but I could barely eat mine. I was so freaking nervous. Peter was going to introduce me to Tony Freaking Stark. My life got wilder by the day.

Waitstaff came by and cleared our table.

Peter got up. “Come with me.”

He led me over to Tony Stark’s table. Mr. Stark excused himself from some senator he was talking to.

“Hey, Mr. Parker, glad you could make it.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark, this is MJ, my date.”

 I shot Peter a confused look, then smiled at Tony Stark, shaking his hand as he extended it. Peter introduced me as his date, but he said we were just here as friends? Boys could be so confusing.

 “It’s great to meet you.”       

 Are you fucking serious, MJ _? It’s great to meet you._ What the fuck? Of course it’s great to meet him. He’s Tony Freaking Stark.

 “Right back at ya, kid. You seem to be really good for Parker, here.”

 I raised an eyebrow. “I-I am?”

 “Yeah, he’s been telling me about that dinner you made him, and the little ‘afterparty’ the two of you had last night.”

 Peter was turning pink- no, full-on red. 

 “Oh, that’s not- we didn’t- it’s not-“

 “Mr. Stark,” Peter said softly, “I think-“

 “Oh, no, I got it, kid.”

 There was a moment of awkward silence. 

 “So, um, Mr. Stark, do you know if Spider-Man is here tonight? Because Peter said he knows him through the internship-“

 Tony raised an eyebrow at Peter. 

 “He is here tonight.”

 “Oh, that’s cool.”

 Peter was starting to look more nervous. 

 “MJ, was that your name?”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Can you give me a moment alone with the kid- uh, Mr. Parker, here? Actually, hold on, Senator? There’s someone I’d like to you meet. This young lady right here, her name is MJ and she goes to Midtown Tech.”

 “Oh? I’m very pleased to meet you.”

 Tony pulled Peter away and was talking to him with a low voice. 

 “Oh, um, thanks. Nice to meet you, too.”

 “You must be graduating soon, hm?”

 “Actually, I’m a junior. Well, I just finished exams, and the school year is over, so I guess I’m a senior, but there’s still a year until I graduate.”

 I was trying to get a look at Peter’s face. It was usually pretty easy to read. 

 “Only a year? You must be getting close to 18, 19?”

 “Oh, no, I turn 17 in September. I’m not-“

 His hand was on my shoulder. 

 Well, that’s a red flag. 

 “Sir, I, uh-“

 “Now, sweetie, what does MJ stand for?” 

 His fingers were pulling at the fabric of my dress. One sharp tug and half of my chest would be out on display. I prayed that my mom's double-sided tape would pull through for me.

 “Sir, can you-“

 He moved his hand to my waist. 

 Not much of an improvement, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to undress me in the middle of the gala. 

 "I asked you a question,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. It was threatening, terrifying. How did I get out of this without making a scene?

 “I actually don’t like to give out my full name. I don’t like using it.”

 Senator Dickhead squinted at me, then let go of my waist. I had a split second of relief before he grabbed my wrist in a death grip and started pulling me. He was dragging me towards the hall that lead to the bathrooms. It was fairly secluded over there. I shuddered at the thought of what could be my immediate future. 

 I turned to look at Peter and Tony, hoping I could catch the eye of one of them. By chance, Peter happened to glance and catch my eye. 

 “Help me,” I mouthed, and he broke out into a run. I stretched out my hand and he took it, squeezed it, and then put a hand on my shoulder. 

 “MJ! There you are!”

 Senator Dickhead stopped pulling me and let go. 

 “I wanted to talk to you about the, uh, well, Mr. Stark explained it much better. Let’s go find him.”

 I followed happily, not even glancing back to see if Senator Dickhead was watching.

 “Thank you,” I told Peter, my voice soft. 

 “No problem. Are you okay?”

 “Yeah,” I lied. Tears started pooling in my eyes. “No.”

 “Shit, okay. Um, come with me.”

 He took my hand in his and led me out a pair of back doors, into a more open area of the Avengers base, and then took me into a back corridor, which opened up into a living area. He sat me down, and then sat down next to me. 

 “Do you want to talk about it?”

 I didn’t trust myself to speak any louder than a whisper. I didn’t say anything.

 “MJ, did he do anything to you? Before I got there?”

 Tears started rolling down my cheeks. Peter got off the couch and knelt in front of me. 

 “He-he was talking about how I must be 18 or 19, and then I told him I was 16, and he ignored me,” I sputtered, trying not to sob. “And he put his hand on my shoulder and he was, like, pulling at the dress, like he wanted to pull it off me-“

 I dropped my head, putting a hand up over my mouth. 

 “I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

 “No, it’s not your fault. MJ, it’s not your fault,” Peter said, almost pleading with me. 

 I took a deep breath, wiped the tears off of my cheeks, and then kept going. 

 “I started to ask him to move his hand, but he just moved it to my waist, and then he asked me what MJ stands for, and I told him I didn’t want to tell him, and that’s when he grabbed my wrist-“

 I stopped, breathing hard, trying to stop myself from crying too hard. 

 “MJ, you don’t have to-“

 “He was pulling me towards the bathrooms, Peter. And I don’t know why I didn’t fight back. I was worried about making a scene but-but I should’ve- I should’ve done something-“

 “It’s not on you, MJ, it really isn’t. He’s a dick and-and he shouldn’t have touched you and--“

 Peter stopped, and stood up. 

 “I’m gonna go find him,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna-“

 “Peter, _don’t._ Please,” I begged, grabbing his hand. “You won’t solve anything. He’s a senator. He’ll just fuck up your reputation or something. You won’t be able to do anything to him.”

 Peter looked at me, his face softening. “Stand up.”

 I let go of his hand. “What?”

 “MJ, stand up.”

 I got off the couch, standing in front of him. 

 “You said he touched your shoulder, right? This one?”

 I nodded. He put his hand on my shoulder, paying close attention to my reaction. 

 “What are you trying to do?”

 “I don’t know. Replace the memory of his hand with mine?”

 I cracked a smile. “That’s sweet,” I told him. 

 “And-and you said he grabbed your left wrist, right?”

 “Yeah.”

 He wrapped his fingers around my wrist. He was right. This was good. Replacing the feel of the senators rough, aged hands with Peter’s soft ones was helping a lot. 

 “And he put his hand on your waist?”

 I bit my lip, nodding. He took his hand off my shoulder to put it on my waist. Without thinking, I put that hand on his waist. Now, this didn't seem like a _just friends_ type of moment, but I didn't say anything. Keeping my mouth shut was starting to become a policy.

 It felt like gravity, pulling us together. I knew he liked me. I knew I liked him. And here we were, holding each other, in a quiet room, both of us absolutely terrified of what could happen next. Was he going to let go? Was he going to kiss me? Or would he completely reject me like he did last night?

  _Careless Whisper_ started playing from a phone. At the same time, Peter and I looked towards the source of the music. Tony stood in the entrance to the room, leaning against a wall, holding his phone up. 

 “The guys aren’t supposed to come in and set up the speakers until next week, so I had to play it from my phone.”

 Peter let go of me, turning to face Tony. “Mr. Stark, how long have you been standing there?”

 “Oh, not long. Long enough to know that you two were probably about to kiss. I can give you some privacy, if you’d like.”

 I looked at Peter, eyes wide. He wasn’t looking at me. 

 “Although,” Tony continued, “they’re starting to play music in there, so if you wanted a chance to slow dance, there’s your opportunity. I’ll leave you kids alone. Be safe, and, um, I’ll be in the gala if you need me.”

 Tony turned off the music and headed back down the hallway, away from us. Peter didn’t turn back towards me, he just dropped his head a little. 

 “We should go back in. Unless you want to stay. But I should-“

 “Don’t leave me,” I blurted out. I sounded weak and needy and desperate, and I hated it, but I’d hate being alone right now even more. I took a breath. 

 Peter looked at me. His face was holding this weird emotion. He looked worried, scared, and hopeful, all at once. He looked like he wanted to take my hand and put his hand on my waist and be as close as we were just a minute ago. Or maybe that was me, projecting my thoughts onto him. 

 “Do you want to go dance?” His voice cracked and he started to blush, but he was holding out his hand and I didn’t want to pass this up, so I took it. We made our way back to the gala and onto the dance floor.

 _Chasing Cars_ by Snow Patrol was playing. Senators and their wives were slowly making their way onto the dance floor. 

 Peter looked at me, as if he were asking me if I was sure. I nodded. He gently pulled me into the centre of the dance floor. 

 “Do you know this song?” he asked, putting his hands on my hips. I placed my hands on his shoulders. 

 “Yeah. It’s nice. It’s a good rainy day song.”

 I let Peter lead. I was too conscious of everything else to focus on dancing. The pressure of his hands on my waist. Senator Dickhead a dozen feet away, dancing with his wife. The words of the song. _If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?_ My breathing, which was too fast, too shaky. Tony Stark dancing with Pepper Potts. The two seemed to be getting closer and closer to Peter and I.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Hm?”

 Peter was giving me puppy-dog eyes. “You seem worried.”

 I sighed, letting my shoulders relax. “Just a little anxious.” I put all my focus on Peter, hoping that would help. 

 “I’m not going to let him touch you again.”

 I smiled. “Thank you.”

 “It’s a good song,” Peter said, changing the subject. 

 “Yeah, I like it. It makes me want to cry a little.”

 “That’s- why?”

 “I don’t know. It just makes me kinda sad. He just wants to enjoy her company.”

 Peter smiled a little. “I can relate.”

 Tony broke away from Pepper and ran over to Peter and I, putting a hand on each of our backs and pushing us closer together quite suddenly. 

 “Don’t leave room for Jesus!”

 He ran back to Pepper, grinning. 

 My arms were crossed behind Peter’s neck now, my body pressed against his. 

 He didn’t move. I didn’t move. 

 We just kept dancing, looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. 

I steeled myself mentally, and started to lean in. Peter did, too, and then paused just before our lips touched. My mind was racing and yet I couldn’t think at all. Just as I was closing the space between us, a drunk older woman bumped into us, and we jumped apart. My heart sank. 

 “Oh! Sorry, loves.”

 “That’s alright, Mrs. Hartmann,” Peter said with a smile. 

 “Oh, Mr. Parker, is this your date?”

 Peter smiled for a moment before he told her that, yes, I was his date tonight. She smiled and told him, “She’s a beauty, hold on to her!”

 “I plan on it,” he responded with a charming smile.  

She gave me a warm smile, and said, “He’s a perfect gentleman, you’re very lucky,” and then turned back to her husband. 

 Peter took my hand and whispered, “Do you want to snag a limo and go to Five Guys?”

 I grinned. “Absolutely.”

 I darted off the dance floor and towards the coat check, where I’d checked my purse when we got here. When I turned around, I saw Peter standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring off with Senator Dickhead. 

 Oh, God.

 I pulled my purse over my shoulder and ran up to Peter, almost tripping in my heels. 

 “Peter, we should go,” I said. He didn’t move. “Peter,” I said more firmly. I put a hand on his bicep. “We have to go.”

 Senator Dickhead smirked. “Listen to your girlfriend, Parker.”

 “Fuck off,” I snapped.

 Peter uncrossed his arms and looked at me in shock. I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the senator. 

 Tony approached us. 

 “You guys leaving?”

 Peter looked at me, and then said, “Mr. Stark, Senator Dewsbury was acting, um, inappropriately earlier on-“

 “Is that why you ran after MJ in the middle of our conversation?”

 He looked mad. Annoyed? It was hard to tell. 

 “Yeah, he, uh, he grabbed me and was trying to pull my dress off my shoulder and then he was pulling me towards the bathrooms.”

 “Oh, that son of a bitch,” Tony hissed. “You kids go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Parker.”

 “Yes, sir. Good night.”

 “Night, kid.”

 He slapped Peter on the shoulder as he walked past us, making a beeline towards the senator. 

 “Let’s go,” Peter said, “this might get ugly.”

 We walked out to the front of the building where a limo was waiting for us. The driver took us to Five Guys, and waited outside for us while we ate for half an hour or so. 

 Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent. 

 “Thanks for taking me,” I mentioned. “Apart from that senator being a creep, I had a really good time.”

 Peter looked up from his fries. “You did?”

 “Yeah. And last night. Last night was arguably better.” You know, if you ignore that bit in the middle where I managed to get my heart absolute shattered.

 Peter laughed. “Agreed. I like it better when it’s just the two of us.”

 “Me too. Although, that one dance was pretty fun.”

 “Yeah, it was.”

 There was a comfortable silence for a moment while we finished our food. 

 “We should get back to the car.” Peter didn’t look me in the eye. He started to, but his eyes landed on my lips, and then dropped back down to the empty wrappers on the table. 

 “Yeah.”

 We threw out all our garbage and left the restaurant. Peter opened the door to the limo for me, and then got in after me. 

 We sat in the limo, starting the long drive back to Queens. His hands were clasped in his lap, but he pulled one a way to check a text partway through the drive, and never re-clasped his hands. I took a leap of faith and slipped my hand into his, intertwining our fingers. He looked at our hands, and then at me. I just looked back, not knowing what to do. 

 He turned his head back towards the window, and I could see his smile reflected in the glass. I slid across the seat as smoothly as I could until our legs were millimetres apart, and then put my head on his shoulder. 

 An alarm was going off in the back of my head, reminding me of Liz and how she definitely still had feelings for Peter, despite what she’d told me. 

 I ignored it. Fuck the girl code. 

 The limo pulled up outside my building. I sighed, almost internally, and separated myself from Peter. The chauffeur opened the door for me. I got out. Peter got out of his side and walked me into the lobby of my building. 

 “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I’m sorry about the senator.”

 “It’s not your fault, Peter, don’t worry about it. I’ll, um, talk to you later.”

 “Have a good night.” His voice was getting softer and his eyes looked like they were getting a little teary. 

 I didn’t want to push him to cry, so I just hugged him and went upstairs. 

 “Hey, honey, how was the Stark thing?” Mom called from the kitchen. 

 “It was great, Mom. It was really great.”

 “Did that boy finally make a move on you?” she asked. I could hear dishes clattering. She was probably emptying the dishwasher. 

 “Mom!”

 “Okay, okay,” she laughed. “Go to bed. Sleep tight, honey.”

 “Goodnight, Mom.” 

 I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and changed into a big shirt and a pair of soft shorts. Then I stared in the mirror, wondering how I even made it through the night. 

 Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Senator Dickhead’s face, feel his hand on my waist. 

 I woke up four times that night. I tried to remember Peter’s hands instead of the senator’s. 

 It helped. It really did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jkjfjfjfsdjfasdfag okay so this was the first chapter I ever wrote for this fanfic and I'm so glad it's finally up and now I can be a sane human being again. Hopefully you guys liked reading it as much I enjoyed writing it!


	7. Falling Slowly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. SO. This chapter is a lot longer than the other chapters up until now (most have a read time of 7-12 minutes, this has a read time of 35 minutes) so it's a lot BUT it's in two parts, MJ's perspective and Peter's perspective.   
> The songs for this chapter are 19-26. (Depending on how fast you read, it might run a little short, but I ran out of cute songs I wanted to put on the playlist. It be like that.)

**June 19 th **

After that gala night, I felt like everything had changed between Peter and I. That tension from the after party was gone, but there was no new tension from the gala night. Things felt okay again. It was great.

I held out hope that maybe my feelings would fade from there, but then last night I went out for dinner alone and complained about it on my Instagram and who met up with me for dessert? Peter. And who’s heart started pounding when he smiled? Mine.

I was so, _so_ fucked.

Anyways, my mom had given me a new camera, so Peter and I decided to go out and do a photoshoot with it. I used the excuse of “breaking it in”, but really, I just wanted to spend more time with him.

Here I was, the most emotionally unavailable person I knew, taking Peter for a photoshoot just to see him smile.

It would be a miracle if I lived through the day.

I picked up him and we headed to this cool spot on the edge of Queens that was quiet and safe, but had a lot of cool back alleys.

“Turn around,” Peter said, taking his backpack off.

“Why?”

“Costume change.”

I tilted my head. “You know, I’ve seen you shirtless.”

“MJ! We were drunk!” I rolled my eyes at him, but turned around anyways. I heard some rustling behind me, but I just adjusted the aperture on my camera and fiddled with it until Peter said, “Okay, we’re good.”

I turned around, lifting my camera to my eyes. When I looked through the viewfinder, I noticed his hair was more ruffled than usual. I lowered my camera and walked towards him.

“Lemme fix your hair.”

Normally, he probably would’ve objected and run his hands through his hair a few times, but he just stared at me, shifting his weight from side to side.

I ran my fingers through is hand to shift the few rogue pieces into place. His hair was so freaking soft, I could’ve stood there and done it all day long.

“There,” I sighed, after running my hands through his hair just a little too long, “all better.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks. Where do you want me to stand?”

I took a look around the alley. “If you stand kind of in the middle, the light’ll hit you just right.”

“Here?”

“Uh, come a little forward.”

“Here?”

“Yeah, good.”

This photoshoot went on for hours. We changed locations, outfits, everything. And it was a lot of fun.

But there was this moment. And it’s an important moment because it made me realize something.

We were walking further down an alley to get better lighting and Peter tripped over a broken cinder block and I quickly grabbed his hand to stop him from falling, but in the process tripped myself and ended up lying on the ground, laughing my ass off. Peter looked concerned for all of two seconds, and once he saw me laugh, he laughed so hard he had to sit down. So I’m laying on the ground, he’s sitting next to me, we’re both laughing so hard we can’t breath, and he reaches over to pull a piece of hair away from my face and I realize something.

Not only did I have feelings for him. I was definitely starting to fall in love with him. Or maybe I already had, and I was just now noticing it.

I went home after that photoshoot, the gears in my braining turning so hard and fast that if someone had told me smoke was coming out of my ears, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

I had to ask him out, right?

But after what he said the night we got drunk…

He only said that because he thought I didn’t want him, though. If I asked him out…

This was the worst. How did guys do this?

I steeled myself and made the decision. I was going to ask him out. We had plans for Friday night, I’d ask him then.

But how? There were a million ways to ask someone out. Did guys like flowers? Guys had to like flowers. Knowing Peter, he probably did.

God, he’d probably let me put one behind his ear and smile that stupidly cute smile. That smile was going to be my undoing. If he’d just hated me and never smiled around me, none of this would’ve happened. But I didn’t want that.

I texted Cindy and frantically tried to figure out what to do. I told her about the gala night, in detail, and she freaked out. She told me there was no way Peter would’ve stood up to the senator if he didn’t really care about me.

That definitely didn’t help the swirl of emotions going on inside me.

**June 21 st **

I spent two days furiously collecting ideas from my friends. The end product was this: I’d ordered a bouquet of lilies for Peter (his favourite flowers were snowdrops but I couldn’t find a florist with snowdrops so I settled for lilies), and I wrote down all my feelings down on a card.

“Peter,

“Okay, this whole thing is going to be cheesy and mushy and gross but it’s the truth so stick with me.

“You’re really sweet and caring and I feel so safe around you. Obviously, I trust you, because I’ve fallen asleep on the couch with you, and, more importantly, you’re the only person (other than my mom and my dog) that’s seen me cry. Oh my god this so hard to write. You’re adorable all the time, but you’re especially cute when you smile, and even more so when you think I can’t see you smiling, because then you smile even wider and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. I could look at your stupid smile all day. God, I’m smiling just thinking about your smile, which is about the cheesiest and most annoying thing on Earth, but here I am, still writing this out, because I’m really sick of pretending I don’t want anything to happen between us. It’s stupid, I know, because I’m the one who said we should stay friends, but that was Emotionally Unavailable MJ, and I’m Slightly Less Emotionally Unavailable MJ telling you that I really hope you say yes to this next question.

“Will you go out with me?

“(Slightly Less Emotionally Unavailable) MJ”

I had it all written down on a card, put it in an envelope, wrote “Peter Parker” on it, and then dropped it on my dresser and forgot about it.

Because of all of the prep work, I was full of anticipation. Luckily for me, Harry had gotten back from boarding school a couple days earlier, so I texted him and told him to meet me at a bakery.

“What are you getting?” he asked, squinting thoughtfully at the display. He was pure American, but his time in English boarding school had left him with a very slight accent. It was hard to pick up on, just a slight inflection here and there, but it was there and seemed to stick.

“I’m gonna get a pack of cinnamon buns. My mom loves them.”

He gazed at the cinnamon buns. “I’ll do the same. I’ll have to hide them from my dad, but then I’ll have a private cinnamon bun stash.”

“That’s the dream.”

We bought our cinnamon buns and sat down at a table to talk for a while.

“So, your dad really hasn’t gotten any better since you were last in town?”

Harry shrugged. “I think he was worse at Christmas. He’s always worse at Christmas, with all the pictures being taken and such.”

“Why does he have to be such a dink?”

“I ask myself that everyday.”

“God,” I sighed, “I wanna punch him sometimes. I mean, he sends you to boarding school for nine months a year, he forces you to wear whatever he wants you to wear. He probably wouldn’t even like you hanging out with me if he knew half the shit I stand for.”

“Oh, he doesn’t like me hanging out with any of you guys. Peter, Ned, Jessie, nobody. He just knows that if he tried to stop me, that’d be my last straw.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and just took a bite of my cinnamon bun. Harry seemed to take advantage of the silence.

“So…you and Peter, hm?”

I looked down. “What about it?”

“I saw your story on Instagram. Are you gonna follow through with asking him out tomorrow?”

I took a deep breath. “I think so. I hope so.”

“You should. You two are so ridiculously perfect for each other.”

I tried to stop the smile from happening, but failed. I even tried to take another bite of cinnamon bun, but Harry saw right through me, as always.

“Don’t pull that with me, Jones. We all know how you two feel about each other. I’m in _England_ seventy-five percent of the time and even I can tell that you’re his whole world.”

My cheeks felt unnaturally warm. “I’m not his whole world.”

“Do you know how much he talks about you? It’s almost annoying. It’d be much more annoying if it weren’t kinda sweet.” I looked him, raising an eyebrow. “Jesus, Jones, I’m serious. Every single conversation, he has to slip in _something_ about you. ‘MJ and I did this, MJ and I did that.’ It’s relentless.” He pitched his voice up in his impression of Peter, which was inaccurate, but funny. I snort-laughed, covered my mouth so I didn’t spew cinnamon bun. Harry was laughing, too.

“I’m not like that, right?”

Harry made a face.

“Oh, come on, dude. I’m not like that.”

“You weren’t…”

“Dude!”

He laughed. “No, you’re not. I mean, I can tell you’re always thinking about him, but that’s different.”

“What? What do you mean? How can you tell when I’m thinking about him?”

He pressed his lips together. “I almost don’t want to say…”

“You’re such a tease!” I laughed, only slightly annoyed.

Harry was one of those guys where the friendship just came so easy. He was a bit of an ass sometimes, in the way we all are, but he was funny and his heart was in the right place.

“You do this thing. You, like, bite your tongue. Like this.” He bit the tip of his tongue between his canines.

“I don’t do that. Do I seriously do that?”

“All the time. That’s how I know you’re thinking about Peter.”

“How on Earth did you make that connection?”

He grinned. “You do it whenever he texts you, too.”

My jaw dropped. “I do?”

“Every single time. That’s how I pieced it together. You also do it when you’re texting him, or when he’s talking to you.”

I groaned. “Well, that’s a big-ass tell.”

With a shrug, Harry said, “Peter never figured it out.”

Well, that was interesting. “Does he have a tell?”

“Come on, you’re the observant one.”

“Clearly, I’ve missed some things. Does he have a tell?”

Harry didn’t miss a beat. He knew exactly what it was. “He licks his bottom lip.”

I felt my eyes widen as I remembered my drunken dare towards Peter. He had licked his bottom lip before he took off his shirt.

I covered my mouth with my fingers. “Oh.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen him do that. It wouldn’t be, like, a, uh-”

“A what?”

I scrunched my face. “He did it before he took his shirt off.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and then he started laughing.

“What? Harry!”

He kept laughing. “That’s hilarious. He- before he- oh, MJ!” Harry was practically hysterical.

“It’s not like... like…”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

I dropped my face into my hands. “Shit.”

“Aw, Jones, don’t get all flustered like that. It’s bad for your street cred.”

“Harry,” I warned, glaring through my fingers.

He laughed. “Jones.”

“We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Oh, yes, we are. I’ve only ever seen him do it when you looked away.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “He was making direct eye contact with me.”

“And taking his shirt off?”

“While we were drunk.”

Harry took a bite of his cinnamon bun, then looked at me like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“What?”

He held up a finger, finished chewing, swallowed, and said, “I’m surprised you guys didn’t sleep together that night.”

I reached over the table to smack his arm. He laughed yet again.

“I’m serious, MJ! God, why was he taking off his shirt?”

I dropped my voice. “I dared him to.”

“You did!?”

“Yeah, well, he dared me to kiss him on the cheek! So, really, we’re kind of even.”

“Is that how that Instagram post happened?”

“Yep.”

“What else happened that night?”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “A lot of things, Harry.”

“Like what?”

“Do you want the sparknotes?”

“Yes, Jones, I would love the sparknotes.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you know we both got drunk, and played truth or dare and all of that. But then he told me that he knows who Spider-Man is but he can’t tell me, and then I told him that I was tired of being just friends-”

“Those things were related to each other?” Harry interrupted.

“Well, no. I’m just rambling. Anyways, I told him I didn’t wanna be just friends anymore and he kind of rejected me.”

“What? He rejected you? How? Why? Why would he do that?”

I averted my eyes, looking for something else in the bakery to find interesting. “He said that he can’t have me if I don’t want him, which doesn’t make any sense because…”

“Because you do.”

“So bad it hurts, Harry. It’s physically painful.” It was a relief to tell someone exactly how much this whole thing sucked.

The humour had left his face completely.

“Why does he think that, then?”

I rolled my eyes, angry at myself. “Probably because I’m the idiot who told him that we should just stay friends.”

Harry gave me a look absolutely filled with sympathy.

“Anyways, after that I threw up and he was really sweet. Held my hair back, brushed my teeth, took off my makeup, got me water. All of that good stuff.”

“He brushed your teeth for you?”

“Yeah. Geez, after he took off my makeup, I remember I put my head on his shoulder and told him I love him, and he said it back, but it’s like an extra punch to the gut, you know? Because he’s probably going to say no tomorrow.”

“He won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

Harry stopped me. “I do. He’s not going to reject you.”

I suspected Peter had told him something that he wasn’t allowed to tell me.

I shoved the last bite of cinnamon bun in my mouth and closed my box of remaining cinnamon buns.

“Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

The drive back to his place was quiet, just the radio playing on a low volume and the sounds of New York drivers. You know, the classic, “Hey, I’m walking here!” and people slamming on their horns at the slightest inconvenience.

The drive back home was quieter. I turned off the radio (because they were playing _Chasing Cars_ and it just made me want to cry) and spent the drive worrying about tomorrow, because it felt like my whole world hung in the balance.

I was hopelessly in love with Peter Parker, and there was nothing I could do about it but hand him that card and hope for the best.

 

**June 22 nd **

I woke up with anxiety filling my whole body. Peter was coming over at five o’clock, which meant I had nothing to do and several hours to kill.

I spent most of the day trying to paint, but by three I was out of inspiration and anxiety-ridden to the point of exhaustion.

I perked myself up by doing my makeup, which I found to be a very meditative artform, but it didn’t take up nearly enough time.

The flowers arrived soon after that. I second guessed that decision for the millionth time, but put them next to the card on my dresser and decided to take Murphy for a long walk.

We walked down to a park, and played fetch for a while. Playing with Murphy cheered me up a little, but didn’t really get my mind off of my anxieties. Around 4:30 I realized we had to go back home. The walk back was a good twenty minutes, but Murphy got distracted by another dog, so we had to stop and say hi, which delayed us a little bit. We got back to the building with a few minutes to spare. My keys were shaking in my hand as we walked down the hallway, my stomach was full of butterflies, and I kept chewing on my tongue absentmindedly. I got into my apartment, let Murphy off the leash, put my keys and the leash on the key hook by the door, took off my shoes, and pushed open the door to my bedroom.

The first thing I noticed was the scent. Dahlias.

The second thing I noticed was Peter, sitting on my bed, reading the card, his tongue running over his bottom lip. There were dahlias everywhere, and a wall full of photos of me and the two of us.

He looked up at me, and put the card down, his fingers lingering on it before he pulled his hand back into his lap.

“MJ.”

I couldn’t say anything. I was just staring at him. He read the card. He read the card. _Hereadthecard._

He stood up. “MJ, I, uh, I don’t know where to start.”

I felt faint. Was I breathing? I wasn’t breathing. “I need- I need to sit down.”

I sat down on the edge of my bed.

“MJ, I- you- you’re the- you’re the light of my life. I-I don’t know what I said last week when we got drunk, but I know it was something stupid and-and I need you to know that I was such an idiot and- MJ, I’m tired of not being with you, and-and I read that card and I know you are, too. I- just, um, let me take you out tonight. Please?”

He was shaking almost as hard as I was.

“Peter, sit down.” I patted the spot next to me on the bed. He sat, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

“MJ, were you going to ask me out tonight?”

I laughed, despite all the emotions going through me. “Did you read the card?”

“Twice.”

“You should know the answer to that.”

He smiled this small, shy smile.

I let out this weird huff of laughter. “I don’t really know how to process what’s happening. I thought you’d say no.”

“Why would I say no?”

His smile was gone, and his eyes were big, pleading for an answer.

A slideshow of memories flitted through my mind. Walking to class together, making him laugh in Chem, studying together and seeing him bite his lip in concentration, sitting on the docks and confessing our feelings, telling him I love him when I was drunk, dancing with him at the gala, and, finally, laughing on the ground in an alleyway when he delicately pushed hair out of my face.

“Why did you think I didn’t want you?” I asked, my voice quiet. “That’s what you said when you were drunk. That you couldn’t have me because I didn’t want you.”

“You just wanted to be friends.”

I almost laughed. “I lied,” I admitted. “I was scared. I-I ran.”

Our noses were almost touching now. It felt like the gala all over again. So close, yet so far away.

_All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see._

“You-you _did_ want me the whole time?” He licked his bottom lip.

“Yes, you dense loser,” I whispered, slowly leaning in.

I could feel his breath, shaky and uneven, the closer I leaned in. I stopped moving closer, wondering if he was going to meet me in the middle. There was a moment before our lips touched, and it felt like there was electricity all around us, until Peter used a hand to push my hair back and closed the space between us, finally kissing me.

It was this delicate, slow kiss. Peter’s hand was still in my hair, but was pressed against my neck, like he was scared I’d pull away. I had one hand on my bed and one hand on his knee, which was bouncing like there was a whole-ass earthquake.

Murphy started barking, so I pulled away and looked to see him in the doorway, wagging his tail and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth. He pitter-pattered into the room and sat down on his dog bed.

I looked at Peter, who was blushing and smiling.

“Can I take you out now?”

I stood up, crossing my arms. “No, Peter, you may not,” I said sarcastically, smiling when I did.

He smiled back at me, standing up and holding out his hand.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go with you,” I sighed playfully, grinning like an idiot. “Wait, first you have to open your flowers.”

He took them off the dresser and unwrapped the paper that encased them.

“I couldn’t find a florist who had snowdrops, so the lilies had to do.”

Peter couldn’t stop smiling. He tried, but he failed. “Thank you.”

“Here,” I said, “let me put one in your hair.”

“Only if I get to put a dahlia in your hair.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile again. I failed. “Deal.” I pulled a smaller lily out of his bouquet and tucked it behind his ear. He looked so adorable.

“How does it look?”

I caught myself chewing on my tongue again. “Absolutely dashing.”

He picked up a small dahlia and brushed some hair out of my face so he could tuck it behind my ear. “You look beautiful.”

I couldn’t breathe. Again.

“Now we’re a matching set. So people know we’re together.”

He smiled wide, like he usually did when he thought I couldn’t see. “I like that.”

I wanted to kiss him again, so bad. His cute little smile and the little pink lily behind his ear-

Fuck it.

I slid one hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and pressed my lips to his.

“MJ,” he mumbled after a moment, “can I take you out _now?_ ”

I smiled for the millionth time, and slipped my hand into his, intertwining our fingers.

We walked, hand-in-hand, to the visitor parking lot and got into his car. There was some stupid, upbeat love song on the radio, and as much as I normally might’ve objected and changed the station, I didn’t mind today.

He took me to a fancy restaurant, where he apparently had a reservation.

“Right this way, Mr. Parker.”

We were led to a small table in the back, and sat down with our menus.

I still couldn’t stop smiling. We were on an actual date! We’d kissed twice! I was so freaking in love with my best friend and he felt the same and we were finally together!

“What?” Peter asked, looking at me.

“Nothing,” I responded, holding my menu higher to hide my smile.

He reached forward and gently pushed my menu down. “I’ve never known you to be shy, Jones.”

“You’ve also never known me to smile this much, Parker,” I shot back.

“I can’t stop smiling either.”

“I can see that.”

There was a long pause. Eventually, lifted my menu back up.

“So, what were you going to do if I said no?”

He shrugged. “Give the reservation to Ned and Jessie. I made sure they were both free tonight in case you said no.”

I gawked at him. “You really- you thought I was gonna say no, didn’t you?”

He was very interested in the menu. “Kinda, yeah.”

My heart broke a little. It was my turn to reach over and push his menu down. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I knew that something was off after the night we got drunk. I didn’t know what it was until tonight.”

“You really thought I’d say no after the gala on Saturday?”

He shrugged. “I guess I did. Do you know what you’re getting?”

We talked about what to eat for almost ten minutes before the waitress came and took our order. After that, we changed the topic, ate our dinner and a dessert, then paid and left the restaurant.

“Where to next?” I asked, getting in the car.

“Do I get to keep it a surprise?”

“After the surprise you pulled in my bedroom tonight? No way.”

Peter smiled. “‘After the surprise you pulled in my bedroom tonight, no way,’ title of your sex tape.”

I smacked his arm lightly. “You’re a loser.”

“I’m your loser,” he countered. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, what a curse,” I sighed dramatically.

He took one hand off the wheel to take my hand in his. “You can talk all the shit you want, Jones, you’ve shown your cards. I know exactly how you feel.”

“That’s a two-way street, Parker. You’ve shown yours, too. And you don’t get to get out of telling me where we’re going.”

“We’re going to the park.”

We pulled up by the playground a few minutes later and sat down on this hill just behind the playground.

“MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“I might be remembering this wrong, so tell me if I am, but you told me you loved me that night we were drunk, right?”

I hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Did you mean it?”

Ooh, here was the part where I had to become Even Less Emotionally Unavailable MJ.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

He smiled, dropping his head as he did.

“I said it, too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Neither of us said it then, but we both knew, and that was enough for now.

After a while, Peter told me to stand up.

“Why?”

“Because we’re backlit and I wanna get a cute picture.”

I rolled my eyes as he stood up and put his phone against a nearby rock, propping it up.

“MJ, stand up, I’m putting it on a timer.”

I stood up, grinning like an idiot yet again.

He set the time and ran back to me. I thought he was just going to put his hand on my waist or something cute like that, but Peter literally picked me up and kissed me. Slow and gentle, like before. He kissed like he had all the time in the world.

“Put me down, Parker.”

He rolled his eyes, slowly letting my legs drop, but kept his hand on my back. I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around his neck. He had one hand on my lower back, pressing me closer to him, and one hand on my waist. I was leaning into him, letting the weight of my body fall against his.

I don’t know how long we spent there, making out in the middle of the park, but slowly, Peter pulled back, looking almost apologetic.

“I should probably get you home.”

I pressed my lips together. “I don’t wanna go home.”

Peter smiled. “I don’t wanna take you home, but I told your mom that I’d have you home by ten.”

“When did you talk to my mom about this?”

Peter bit his lip. “I stole her number off of your phone. She helped me find some of those photos.”

My jaw dropped. “You conspired with my mom? She knew about all of this and let me sit around and worry all day?”

Peter let go of me, putting his hands up in surrender and backing away. “She could’ve told you.”

“Did you tell her not to?”

“…yes.”

I sighed. “Of course she listened to you, then, she loves you.”

Peter laughed, picking up his phone and sending me the picture he took. “Come on, let me take you home.”

I crossed my arms.

He sighed dramatically and held out his hand. “Please? I still want her to invite me over for random game nights.”

I took his hand, and we walked back to his car and he took me home.

“Thanks,” I said softly as he pulled into the visitor parking lot. “This whole night was…just perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled at me. “Thanks for saying yes.”

I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and then got out of his car.

“What, I don’t get a proper kiss goodnight?” he complained, rolling down his window.

I turned around, and gave him a death glare. He didn’t budge, just smiled.

I went over to the window, grabbed his face with my hands, and kissed him goodnight.

“You happy now?”

“Happier, yes.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“’Night, MJ.”

 

* * *

 

**June 19 th**

After the gala on Saturday, things felt normal with MJ again. It felt like the easy friendship we had before the field trip when we told each other how we felt. Teasing each other was easy again. Of course, all of our friends were still being annoying about us, but it didn’t seem to affect how we acted around each other anymore. It was like finally breathing out after holding your breath for weeks.

Nothing had really changed, especially how I felt about her, but it felt different. Maybe we trusted each other just a little more. Maybe we just weren’t holding back.

MJ’s mom bought her a new camera, so MJ asked me to do a photoshoot with her, so she could break it in a little and get to know it’s settings. She picked me up and brought me to what she referred to as the “photoshoot district” of Queens. It was near the edge of Queens, with a lot of alleys and graffiti, but was a pretty safe neighbourhood.

After we’d taken a batch of photos, we moved to a new spot.

“Turn around,” I told MJ, taking my backpack off.

“Why?”

“Costume change.”

She tilted her head, giving squinting her eyes at me. “You know, I’ve seen you shirtless.”

“MJ! We were drunk!” I said defensively. She rolled her eyes, but turned around, looking down at her camera. I changed as quickly as I could, and shoved my old outfit back into my backpack. “Okay, we’re good.”

She turned around, already lifting her camera up, but then took one look through the viewfinder and lowered it. There was this look in her eyes that I’ve only seen when she was looking at her art and trying to figure out how to fix a mistake. She started walking towards me.

“Lemme fix your hair.”

We’ve done dozens of photoshoots together, and anytime she notices something’s wrong with my hair, she just points it out and I fix it, or she’ll try to fix it herself and I’ll stop her.

I didn’t stop her, partially out of curiosity.

She started running her hands through my hair, biting her tongue between her canines, presumably from concentration.

I froze, completely hypnotized. Her own hair was falling in her face, and I wanted to brush it away, but I didn’t want to break her concentration.

Her eyes fell from my hair to my eyes. “There, all better.”

“Thanks. Where do you want me to stand?”

“If you stand kind of in the middle, the light’ll hit you just right.” Little did she know, the light was hitting her just right. A few strands of hair cast shadows over her face, and once again, I wanted to push them away.

I moved to the centre of the alley, trying not to think too hard about how beautiful she was right now. “Here?”

“Uh, come a little forward.”

“Here?”

“Yeah, good.”

She lifted her camera up to her eyes again, obscuring her whole face.

Our photoshoot went on for hours. We changed locations and outfits several times. During one location change, I tripped over a cinder block, and in an attempt to stop me from falling, MJ grabbed my hand, tripping herself in the process. She fell onto her back, and for a moment, I was terrified she’d hurt herself.

Then she burst out laughing, and so I started laughing, too. She had the most gorgeous laugh I’d ever heard. Honestly, I tried to make her laugh all the time, just so I could hear it.

I sat down next to her, still holding her hand, still laughing, and a few strands of hair were still in her face.

I couldn’t help myself this time. I brushed the hair out of her face.

Suddenly, neither of us were laughing anymore. And that same tension from the dance floor of the gala had returned. She was looking at me the same way she had before she leaned in to kiss me, only this time she dropped her eyes and sat up.

“Glad my camera’s okay.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at her like a lovesick puppy.

“Come on, Parker, get up. Last location.”

She stood up and held out a hand.

For a moment, I imagined taking her hand and pulling her back down, into my lap, and kissing her.

My heart was beating unusually hard.

“Peter, stop staring at me like I’ve grown horns and get up.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

We did our last batch of photos, and then MJ dropped me off at my apartment.

“Hey, Peter, how was the photoshoot?” May asked.

“Good. Really good.” I started to head for my room, and then stopped. “May? Can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure, honey, what’s up?”

I sat down next to her on the couch.

“I think I wanna ask MJ out.”

She didn’t really react. I sighed.

“You can say it.”

“Yes! Finally! Oh, thank God you’re finally going to ask her.”

I laughed, despite the building anxiety. “So, um, how are you supposed to ask someone out?”

“Well, why don’t you ask your friends, honey? You know, what kind of flowers she likes, stuff like that.”

I breathed out, shakily. “We made plans to hang out on Friday, should I do it then?”

“Of course! It’ll give you time to plan, and you don’t have to try to surprise her somewhere else. Ooh, can I call and make a reservation at a nice restaurant for you two?”

“What if she says no?”

“You can always cancel the reservation, Peter, but I can’t imagine her saying no.”

I got up, pacing the room. “She- why would she go out with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I- just- you’ve met her, May, you know how gorgeous she is. Why would she go out with me?”

“Oh, honey. It’s gonna be fine. You’re a really sweet guy, she’d be stupid to say no.”

“That doesn’t mean she won’t say no,” I said, exasperated.

May sighed. “According to you, she’s the smartest girl in the world. So why would she say no?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, May, but I also don’t know why she’d say yes.”

“Okay, dwelling on that stuff isn’t going to help you. I’ll call the restaurant, you come up with a plan. Deal?”

“Deal.”

**June 22 nd **

I had finally put my plan together. Cindy asked MJ what kind of flowers she liked best, so I bought a whole bunch of dahlias. I had a bunch of cute pictures I was going to hang up in her bedroom. Some of them were just her, but some of them were of both of us.

I had the flowers and photos all bundled up and stored in my backpack and drove to MJ’s apartment complex. MJ’s mom said that MJ was out for a walk with Murphy, so she left MJ’s window unlocked for me and I was headed there at four to set everything up and surprise her.

I parked in the visitor lot and then walked around to the back of the building. I made sure nobody could see me from where I was in the alleyway, then pulled up my sleeve, letting my web shooter unfold, and shot the ladder of the fire escape with a web to pull it down. I climbed up the ladder, then pulled it back into position and took my web shooter off and put it in my backpack.

I climbed up the stairs to MJ’s window, then carefully climbed in, making sure to take my shoes off because I knew how much she hated people wearing shoes in her apartment. I took all the flowers and photos out of my backpack, then put my shoes in the backpack and hid it in the space between the wall and her bed. I started putting things together. All the photos went up on clothesline on her wall. I spread out the flowers on her bed, on her desk, and then I went to put some on her dresser and noticed an unopened bouquet of flowers and an envelope.

My heart sank. Had someone asked her out before me?

I picked up the envelope and turned it over.

It was addressed to _me._

If I had been paying attention, I would’ve realized that I had about three minutes until MJ was getting back, if not less. But I wasn’t paying attention. My heart was pounding and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I sat down on her bed and opened the envelope.

“Peter,

“Okay, this whole thing is going to be cheesy and mushy and gross but it’s the truth so stick with me.

“You’re really sweet and caring and I feel so safe around you. Obviously, I trust you, because I’ve fallen asleep on the couch with you, and, more importantly, you’re the only person (other than my mom and my dog) that’s seen me cry. Oh my god this so hard to write. You’re adorable all the time, but you’re especially cute when you smile, and even more so when you think I can’t see you smiling, because then you smile even wider and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. I could look at your stupid smile all day. God, I’m smiling just thinking about your smile, which is about the cheesiest and most annoying thing on Earth, but here I am, still writing this out, because I’m really sick of pretending I don’t want anything to happen between us. It’s stupid, I know, because I’m the one who said we should stay friends, but that was Emotionally Unavailable MJ, and I’m Slightly Less Emotionally Unavailable MJ telling you that I really hope you say yes to this next question.

“Will you go out with me?

“(Slightly Less Emotionally Unavailable) MJ”

I couldn’t breathe. Was she going to ask me out?

I read it again. She was _definitely_ going to ask me out.

I heard a door open and the pitter-patter of something small running, but my brain didn’t register it until MJ pushed the door open. I looked up, and then dropped the card.

“MJ.” She didn’t say anything. She was completely still. I stood up. “MJ, I, uh, I don’t know where to start.”

“I need- I need to sit down,” she said. Her voice was quiet and shaky. She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, where I was just sitting.

 “MJ, I- you- you’re the- you’re the light of my life. I-I don’t know what I said last week when we got drunk, but I know it was something stupid and-and I need you to know that I was such an idiot and- MJ, I’m tired of not being with you, and-and I read that card and I know you are, too. I- just, um, let me take you out tonight. Please?” None of that came out the way I wanted it to. Not nearly as smooth. Why didn’t I make cue cards for this?

“Peter, sit down.” She patted the spot next to her. I looked at her, and then sat down, shaking like a leaf.

I had to ask. “MJ, were you going to ask me out tonight?”

She laughed, but it wasn’t her normal laugh. She sounded tense. “Did you read the card?”

“Twice.”

“You should know the answer to that.”

I smiled.

She gave a single huff of laughter. “I don’t really know how to process what’s happening. I thought you’d say no.”

“Why would I say no?” I asked, feeling the smile fall off of my face. Why would I say no to her? She was…MJ. She was funny and smart and beautiful and…perfect.

“Why did you think I didn’t want you?” The question shocked me. “That’s what you said when you were drunk. That you couldn’t have me because I didn’t want you.”

I sputtered. “You just wanted to be friends.” I remembered hearing her say it on the docks. It had felt like I’d been shot.

“I lied. I was scared. I-I ran.” She leaned closer to me, almost unconsciously. I realized I was leaning closer to her than I had been when I sat down.

 “You-you _did_ want me the whole time?” I asked. She was so close. Were we actually, finally going to kiss?

“Yes, you dense loser.”

She started to lean in, closer to me, and then stopped. The room seemed to fill with thick air, making it hard to breathe. I could feel the heat coming off of her face.

I summoned every ounce of courage in my body and lifted my hand, pushing it through her hair to move it out of her face, and kissed her. She put a hand on my knee. I moved to put my free hand on her waist, but Murphy started barking, so she pulled away. He was standing in the doorway, wagging his tail and letting his tongue hang out of his mouth. Once he had our attention, he just waddled over to his bed and sat down.

MJ looked at me and smiled. She looked genuinely happy in a way I’d never seen before.

It was a good day.

“Can I take you out now?” I asked.

She stood and crossed her arms. “No, Peter, you may not.” She was completely sarcastic, but she couldn’t drop the smile. I wanted to kiss her again.

I stood up and held out my hand.

“Fine, I guess I’ll go with you. Wait, first you have to open your flowers.”

I knew not to question it, and just picked the bouquet off of the dresser and took the paper off.

“I couldn’t find a florist who had snowdrops, so the lilies had to do.”

They were perfect, simply because they came from her. “Thank you.”

“Here, let me put one in your hair.”

“Only if I get to put a dahlia in your hair,” I countered.

She pressed her lips together. “Deal.” She pulled the smallest lily she could find out of the bouquet, and slid the stem over my ear.

“How does it look?” I asked.

She bit her tongue. “Absolutely dashing.”

I picked a small dahlia off of her bed and tucked it behind her ear. I couldn’t believe that this was a real moment that was happening. I felt like the luckiest guy in the universe.

“You look beautiful,” I told her, completely sincere.

“Now we’re a matching set. So people know we’re together.”

“I like that.”

She stared at me for a moment, like she was trying to calculate something in her head, and then she kissed me. I thought that maybe I’d died and gone to heaven.

Shit, we had a reservation to make.

“MJ, can I take you out _now?_ ”

She didn’t say anything, and for a moment I was absolutely terrified. But then she took my hand with a smile.

We walked down to the visitor parking lot and got in the car. We drove to the restaurant, holding hands the whole time. I had to make a few sharp turns on the way there, which are difficult when you’ve only got one hand on the wheel, but I refused to let go of MJ’s hand.

We finally got to the restaurant and were led to a small table in the back, and sat down with our menus.

MJ was smiling at her menu. Was there a joke on it or something?

“What?”

“Nothing.” She lifted her menu higher to hide the smile, but was looking right at me. I could see her smile in her eyes.

I reached over the table and pushed her menu down. “I’ve never known you to be shy, Jones.”

“You’ve also never known me to smile this much, Parker,” she countered.

“I can’t stop smiling either.”

“I can see that.”

There was a long pause.

“So, what were you going to do if I said no?”

I shrugged, like I hadn’t given it much thought. “Give the reservation to Ned and Jessie. I made sure they were both free tonight in case you said no.”

She stared at me, mouth open. “You really- you thought I was gonna say no, didn’t you?”

“Kinda, yeah.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. I stared a little too intently at the menu.

I saw her hand come over the top of my menu and push it back down towards the table. I looked back up at her. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I knew that something was off after the night we got drunk. I didn’t know what it was until tonight.”

“You really thought I’d say no after the gala on Saturday?”

“I guess I did.” I hesitated, then changed the subject. “Do you know what you’re getting?”

We discussed our choices until the waitress came and took our order. We ate dinner, then ordered some dessert, paid, and left.

“Where to next?”

“Do I get to keep it a surprise?” I asked.

“After the surprise you pulled in my bedroom tonight? No way.”

I smiled. “‘After the surprise you pulled in my bedroom tonight, no way,’ title of your sex tape.”

“You’re a loser,” she told me, smacking my arm.

“I’m your loser. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, what a curse.”

I took a hand off the wheel and grabbed hers. “You can talk all the shit you want, Jones, you’ve shown your cards. I know exactly how you feel.”

“That’s a two-way street, Parker. You’ve shown yours, too. And you don’t get to get out of telling me where we’re going.”

“We’re going to the park,” I told her. She rolled her eyes, thinking I couldn’t see.

We pulled up by the playground a few minutes later and sat down on a hill just behind the playground.

“MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“I might be remembering this wrong, so tell me if I am, but you told me you loved me that night we were drunk, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you mean it?” I was scared to know, but I had to.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

I looked down, hoping that would hide my smile. “I said it, too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

I didn’t tell her that I meant it, too, but the way her shoulders were relaxed and the small smile she wore on her face, I figured she knew.

She was perfect. Everything about her. Her big, brown eyes. Her lips, which were just as soft as they looked. Her sense of humour. She was just perfect.

I looked at our surroundings. “Stand up.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re backlit and I wanna get a cute picture.”

I opened the camera app on my phone and set a timer, then leaned my phone against a rock.

“MJ, stand up, I’m putting it on a timer.”

She stood up, trying to seem reluctant, but she was smiling.

I set the time and ran over to her, barely slowing down before I scooped her up in my arms, bridal style, and kissed her. It took her a second, but she kissed me back, wrapping one arm over my neck and putting the other hand on my shoulder. It sounds weird or stupid, but I loved kissing her. I felt like I was getting to know something about her that other people didn’t.

Eventually, she pulled back.

“Put me down, Parker.”

I rolled my eyes as dramatically as I could, but let her legs down. I kept my hand on her back, and once she’d regained her footing, she kissed me again. Slowly, she let herself lean against me, which put more weight on me, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like I was lacking in physical strength.

We stood there, just kissing, for a while. I eventually realized that we were probably getting close to ten, and I’d told her mom that I’d have her home by then. I didn’t think her mom really cared, but I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t care, so I pulled away, wishing I didn’t have to.

“I should probably get you home,” I told MJ, barely a whisper.

“I don’t wanna go home.”

“I don’t wanna take you home, but I told your mom that I’d have you home by ten.”

“When did you talk to my mom about this?”

Oh, shit. “I stole her number off of your phone. She helped me find some of those photos.”

MJ’s jaw dropped. I winced a little, feeling bad. “You conspired with my mom? She knew about all of this and let me sit around and worry all day?”

I let go of her and backed up, putting my arms up in surrender. “She could’ve told you.”

“Did you tell her not to?”

I hesitated. “…yes.”

“Of course she listened to you, then, she loves you,” MJ sighed dramatically.

I was just happy that MJ’s mom liked me.

I laughed, crossing over to the rock I propped my phone up against. “Come on, let me take you home.” I sent her the photo. I had a feeling she’d want it later.

She crossed her arms, pouting.

I held out a hand. “Please? I still want her to invite me over for random game nights.”

She reluctantly took my hand, and let me take her home.

Driving her around was so difficult. I had to look at the road, but I just wanted to look at her.

When we pulled into the visitor parking lot by her apartment building, she smiled at me. “Thanks. This whole night was…just perfect. Thank you.”

“Thanks for saying yes.” I meant it.

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and got out of the car.

I rolled down my window and called out, “What, I don’t get a proper kiss goodnight?”

She turned around with a glare and a small smile. I smiled back, refusing to drop it. Thankfully, it worked. She ran back to the window, grabbed my face with both hands, and kissed me, hard.  

“You happy now?”

“Happier, yes.”

“Goodnight, Peter.”

“’Night, MJ.”

I didn’t sleep all night. I laid in bed, playing with the lily she’d put behind my ear, and wondering what I did to deserve her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updates are gonna start slowing down (probably one chapter per week at most) but I'll try to make them longer to make up for it. :)   
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	8. Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is pretty much just a fluff chapter. I tried to make it as cute as possible bc there's some angsty stuff coming up, so enjoy this while you can! Next chapter might take a while because summer school is starting soon, but I'll try to get it up by next friday. I put updates on my insta stories if you want to actually keep track of when a chapter is going up. (@mj.aka.michellejones)  
> Songs are 27-32 from the playlist. If you want a direct link to the spotify playlist, there's one on my instagram in the fanfic updates highlight. I've had a hard time getting links to work from ao3 and I don't know if that's just me, but that's why I haven't put one up here.

**June 23 rd **

I was still trying to process the events of the night before. The last week had been an emotional rollercoaster and it finally felt like it was over and everything was going to be okay. I hadn’t felt this kind of pure happiness in so long.

The squad decided that we were going to go see Incredibles 2 at a drive-in theatre that night, so I packed my car full of blankets and snacks. Liz, Jessie, Harry, Cindy, Ned, Peter and I all met up at the theatre in the evening and got good parking spots for the movie.

“It’s weird seeing you two making googly eyes at each other so obviously. I’ve gotten used to you guys trying to hide it,” Jessie teased.

“Oh, shut up, Smith,” I retorted, not even that annoyed. “I could say the same for you and Ned.”

Ned smiled and blushed. It was cute seeing him this happy.

“Ugh, you guys are so cute. Liz, do you wanna get drunk with me so we can forget how lonely we are?” Cindy asked.

Liz shrugged, looking like she’d pretty much given up. “Count me in.”

“Wait, hold up, guys,” Harry said. “I’m single and sober and I wanna fix of those things.”

Cindy grinned and the three of them ran off towards her dad’s truck.

Peter squeezed my hand to get my attention. “Ten minutes before the movie starts. Should we head back to your car and set up some blankets?”

Jessie smirked mischievously. “Ooh, dating for one day and you’re already getting under blankets together? Must’ve been one good date last night.”

I could feel my cheeks getting warm. “It was good, but it wasn’t _that_ good.”

Ned joined in on the teasing. “So, what you’re saying is that Peter doesn’t know how to show a girl a good time?”

I shrugged. “Not at all.”

In unison, Ned and Jessie went, “Ooooooh.”

Peter was blushing furiously. “MJ, we should head back to the car.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically, but followed him back to my car.

“I know how you could keep her busy through the previews!” Jessie called.

I flipped her off without turning around.

My car was one row up and a few cars down from Ned and Jessie, so we could still hear her catcalling us, but it was pretty easy to tune out.

I pulled my keys out of my sweater pocket, unlocked the car, and opened the trunk, passing Peter a blanket.

“Do you wanna just put it on the roof of the car? We’ll get a better view than if we’re sitting in it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Peter agreed. “That way there’s no armrest between us.”

He laid the blanket out on the hood of my car, then came back around. I handed him our pop bottles, then grabbed the grocery bag full of popcorn and potato chips, closed my trunk, and climbed into the roof of my car.

“We better see y’all making out during this movie!” Jessie shouted.

I turned around. “It’s been fourteen years since the first Incredibles. I’m not missing a single moment of it!”

Peter laughed, putting his arm around my shoulders so I’d turn back around.

“Sorry about all of that,” I groaned. “That girl is a menace.”

“You don’t have to apologize for her. I don’t mind all that much.”

I put my head on his shoulder and exhaled. It felt so peaceful. The sun was setting, the previews were starting to play, and we had that white cheddar popcorn that you only buy on special occasions because it comes pre-popped.

Peter kissed the top of my head. “I’m so glad I finally asked you out.”

“Me too.”

I heard Cindy whoop from a few cars down. “Get some, kiddos!”

I took my head off Peter’s shoulder to flip her off. She and Harry laughed.

Liz seemed quiet. I kinda worried about her. It felt sorta like I’d swooped in on Peter, but she did tell me she was cool with us dating, so I tried not to feel guilty about it.

Peter put his hand down on the roof of the car, behind my back.

“Do you want to give them an actual show?” Peter asked, grinning mischievously.

“Peter, just say you wanna kiss me,” I teased.

He laughed, then leaned in and kissed me. I was smiling against his lips, and then he was, too. I pulled away, beaming like the idiot I was.

“You’re cute,” Peter told me.

I shrugged. “I know.”

He looked at me for a moment, then said, “Shit, the boombox is still in the trunk. What’s the radio station they’re playing the sound through?” He jumped off the roof and headed to the trunk.

“Uh, 86.2 FM, I think.”

He opened the trunk and pulled out my tiny, battery powered boombox, then climbed back up onto my car. He must’ve turned it on and to the radio station before he pulled it out of the trunk, because I could hear the audio for the preview that was playing. It was quiet, but we’d turn it up for the movie.

“This better be a good movie, because I’ve waited fourteen years for it,” I grumbled.

“Agreed.”

The previews ended, the Pixar short played, and then the movie started. I could feel Peter’s shoulder and arm tense up with excitement as the music started. He turned up the volume on the speaker.

“Popcorn?” I whispered.

“Absolutely.”

I pulled out the popcorn and opened the bag.  

It didn’t last through the first half of the movie.

By the end of the movie, Peter was gripping my hand so hard it was whiter than he was. It was an intense movie. I thought it was better than the first one, though. I found the Omnidroid thing kind of frustrating. The sequel was actually better for once.

After the movie, everyone kinda gathered at my car since it was the midpoint between the three cars.

“We should go out for milkshakes or something,” I suggested, “to complete the kind of 50s night we’ve got going.”

“I gotta get home,” Jessie sighed. “Sorry.”

“And my mom’s car is her ride, so I’m out too,” Ned said with a shrug. “We’ll catch up later, Peter?”

“Yeah, man.”

They did their weird handshake, and then Ned and Jessie split off.

“So, anybody else?”

Harry checked his phone. “I have to make curfew. We’re an hour from my place and curfew’s in forty minutes, so I gotta go.”

Cindy and Liz went with him, muttering about how they didn’t want to watch Peter and I “being all cutesy” the whole time.

Fine by me. Peter and I went out to this 50s diner near the drive-in. We filled up on popcorn and candy, so we just got the milkshakes. We almost split one for The Aesthetic but we wanted different flavours, so we got two separate ones.

I put my elbow on the table, rested my face in my hand, and used my other hand to get the straw in my mouth. The laziest way to drink a milkshake. Peter laughed at me over it.

“You’re somehow really well put together and yet an absolute mess at the same time. You’re an oxymoron.”

“You’re just a moron,” I countered, grinning.

“Touché, Jones.”

I grinned.

Peter pushed his milkshake to the side and leaned forward. “Can we talk for a moment?”

I frowned for a moment, put pushed my milkshake aside and listened.

He put his hand on mine. “You look really happy and relaxed tonight, and I don’t know if that’s because of me or us or whatever, but I’m really glad you’re so happy right now.”

“Well, shit, Parker, that was really sweet.”

“Are you tearing up?” he asked, leaning closer.

“No,” I lied, blinking and looking down.

“MJ…”

“It’s fine. They’re happy tears.” I wiped at my eyes, and looked at him. “You were the same today. You seem like you’ve finally chilled out a bit.”

 He smiled. “I’m not worried about you rejecting me anymore.”

“Are you serious? That was the source of all of your stress?”

He shrugged. “It was a significant portion of it.”

“Wait,” I said, “when did you actually realize you had feelings for me? Because you’ve been stressed for _months._ ”

Peter looked away. “Uh, about a week or two before prom.”

“Prom?!” That was two months ago. “So, when you said you wished you’d gone to prom with me-”

He looked at me with his big brown eyes, and said in the softest voice, “I meant it.”

I paused, then said, “Do you think you had feelings for longer than that?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been, like, head over heels for you since Thanksgiving when you threw mashed potatoes at me and rubbed it into my hair.”

I laughed. “That was what made you fall for me?”

“What can I say?” He reached over the table and tucked some hair behind my ear. “It was your laugh.”

I looked down, definitely blushing. “Aw, shucks.”

“What about you? When did you realize?”

I pressed my lips together. “You know that dinner I made you a couple weeks ago? That night.”

“You realized your feelings for me the day before you told me how you felt? I’d been storing mine since before prom!”

I laughed. “I think I’ve been ignoring them since the end of winter break, though. Sometime around then.”

“So no matter what, I’m the sucker who fell in love with you first?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes it be like that.” I took a sip of my milkshake, and my straw made that gurgly-slurpy noise that happens when you get to the bottom of a drink.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Do something about it,” I challenged with a wink.

He got up and slid into my side of the booth, leaned in like he was gonna kiss me, then ducked and started tickling me.

“Peter!”

“You told me to do something about it.”

I smacked his arm lightly, then braced on arm against his chest, trying to keep him off of me.

Unfortunately for me, I’d left my sweater in my car, so there was nothing protecting me but the thin cotton of my t-shirt.

“Peter, stop tickling me,” I giggled.

 He stopped, and luckily for me, the trade-off was that he grabbed me by the waist and kissed me. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulled away just a little bit, and whispered, “Mashed potatoes.”

He burst out laughing, dropping his forehead on my shoulder. His whole body was shaking.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“I never said I’d try to change.”

He grinned. “No, you didn’t. Do you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I put my stuff in my purse and got my keys out as he went to the front and paid. We met up at the door and headed out into the parking lot.

“What time is it?”

He checked his phone. “It’s… almost midnight.”

“Okay, so we’ve got time to park in some back alley and get under those blankets in the backseat before curfew,” I teased. He flushed bright red.

“God, no wonder you’re so close to Cindy and Jessie. Birds of a feather.”

I laughed. “You’re the same shade as the red lipstick in my purse, Parker.”

“Yeah, shut up about it.”

I leaned against my car. “Make me.”

“MJ, I’m- come on, MJ, I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Well, fuck that. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards me, pressing my lips against his. He made this surprised little squeak before he relaxed. I struggled not to smile when he squeaked, but then he put a hand on my waist and I realized my shirt had ridden up, because there was some skin-on-skim contact. I didn’t worry about it, and it didn’t seem like he did either. The point was, the second he touched me, it distracted me from the squeak. I ran my hand through his hair, my fingers getting tangled in his loose curls. He slipped a hand behind my neck, angling my head a little better.

“Get a room!” someone shouted. Peter broke away, chuckling softly. His lips were slightly swollen and his hair was super messy.

“Get in the car,” I told him. “I should take you home.”

He didn’t move. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Peter, get in the car, you cute nerd.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Jones,” he said, licking his bottom lip.

The drive back to Peter’s building was a good forty-five minutes. I didn’t mind. It was late, so there wasn’t too much traffic. There were the odd clubbers or bar hoppers, but it wasn’t bad. Besides, it meant Peter and I got to sing along to the songs on my playlist and scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs.

“You’re the best girlfriend in the world, you know that?” Peter told me as we pulled up to his building. “Seriously. You’re amazing. I adore you.”

“Don’t get cheesy on me again, Parker,” I joked. “I’m kidding. Also, you’re way more amazing than I am.”

“Am not!”

“Are to!”

“Am not!”

“Are to!”

He put one hand on my face to turn me to him, then kissed me. It was just a quick peck, but I still committed it to memory.

“Goodnight, MJ.”

“Goodnight, hun.”

“Text me when you get home,” he said, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Alright. See you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He closed the door, and gave me a little smile and wave through the window. I waved back, then waited for him to get into his building before I pulled away and went home. I texted him when I got in, then collapsed on the couch with my mom and told her how my night was.

**June 26 th **

I was woken by my phone vibrating off of my desk. I practically fell out of bed, legs still sort of tangled in the sheets, and picked up my phone.

Peter was calling.

“Morning, nerd. What’s up?”

“Do you wanna go to the gym with me?” Peter asked.

I scoffed, “Why would I willingly go to the gym at-” I checked the time, “-eight thirty in the morning?”

Peter sighed audibly. “Listen, I’m outside with a bagel.”

Ooh. Food. That was tempting.

“Fine. Give me ten minutes, I just woke up.”

He laughed. “See you in ten, love.”

He hung up. I stared at my phone. Did he just call me “love”?

Oh, boy, that was cute as hell, but I had ten minutes to get ready, so I couldn’t dwell on it.

I grabbed a pair of leggings, a bra, and a tank top, then somehow managed to change while putting my hair up in a bun, then brushed my teeth while finding my running shoes, then ran down to the visitor parking lot to meet up with Peter, so was leaning against his car, holding a bagel in the air.

“What kind of bagel is it?”

“Cheese bagel with plain cream cheese, toasted.”

“Ugh, you’re the man of my dreams.”

I gave him a hug, a quick kiss, then grabbed the bagel and got in the car.

“I hope you know I’m only coming because it’s you and a bagel. Anybody else and I’d have stayed in bed.”

“Really? So if Ned showed up-”

“Call declined.”

“Even if he had the bagel?”

I paused. “I’d get the bagel. I wouldn’t go with him.”

Peter laughed. “So you’re just doing this for the quality time together?”

“Yep.”

“Funny. So am I.”

We drove to the gym and he checked me in as a guest.

“This gym is fancy,” I said, looking around.

“Yeah, I got my membership through the Stark Internship.”

“Oh, so you know it’s expensive because Tony Stark paid for it.”

He made me go through his workout routine with him, which was a good hour and a half, and by the end of it, I was lying on the ground, completely sweaty and exhausted.

“I don’t know how you do this so easily.”

“It’s not easy,” he said defensively, “I’ve just done it a lot.”

I stared up him. “You just did 20 pull ups with weights attached to your feet without breaking a sweat.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve been working out a lot, okay?”

“Whatever.”

“Come on, get up. We’ll go get lunch or something.”

I groaned. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Are you gonna make me carry you to the car?” Peter sighed.

I smiled sheepishly. “I wouldn’t hate that.”

Instead of picking me up bridal style, like I’d expected, he carried me over his shoulder.

“Happy?”

“It’s better than walking,” I sighed.

He put me down when we got to the car and opened the door for me. I got in and checked my phone.

“Uh, do you mind just dropping me off at home?” I asked. “My mom said she needs me home with the dog so she can go to my aunt’s place.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sorry, I wanted to go for lunch-”

“It’s no problem.”

It was a pretty quick drive back to my place, which kinda sucked. He parked in the visitor lot and looked over at me.

“I don’t wanna go in,” I admitted.

“It’s alright, MJ, I’ll text you when I get home.”

I scrunched my nose. “Yeah, but that’s not the same.”

“Do you want me to come in and hang out with you?”

I turned it over in my head. I’d have to cancel on Cindy and Jessie, and they’d never let me live it down.

“No, I have plans with the girls. They’re coming over and playing video games and then we’re going to a club tonight.”

“Oh.” He sounded so sad.

“Hey, we’re going to Harry’s birthday party on Thursday, so it’s not like we don’t get to see each other all week.”

He pouted. “What about tomorrow?”

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then, we’ll do something tomorrow. I’m probably going to be exhausted, though.”

“I don’t care. I just wanna spend time with you.”

“You’re cute,” I told him, unbuckling my seatbelt and getting out of the car. I walked around to his side and he rolled down the window.

“So, can you pick me up at noon tomorrow?” I asked, crossing my arms on the car door and leaning.

“Sure. What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “We can go get lunch or see a movie or something.”

“Sounds good.”

I leaned in through his window and kissed him. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, love.”

I walked into the building, smiling uncontrollably. He called me “love” _again._

I turned back to look at him, to see if he’d pulled away yet, but he hadn’t. He was just sitting there, watching me walk into the building. I waved at him. He smiled and waved back.

I turned and walked into the building, trying to control my smile.

When I got back into my apartment, the first thing I did was get in the shower and wash all the sweat out of my hair. By the time I dried my hair and changed, Cindy and Jessie were knocking on my door.

I let them in and we played some video games. Cindy claimed she won. She did, but I was too stubborn to agree with her.

“See? I’m three points ahead, Jessie.”

“That’s weak as hell, Moon,” I said. “Call me when you’ve got an actual lead on her.”

“Says you. Look at how far behind you are!”

“That’s because you killed her, Cindy!”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“That’s supposed to be my line!” I smacked her arm.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

Jessie shrugged. “You only use it with Peter…so…”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You guys are awful.”

“Whoa! Who told you to ask Peter out?” Cindy asked, as if I owed her for asking him out.

“Everyone,” I countered. “For like six months. It was exhausting. Anytime Peter and I hung out I had to convince my mom it wasn’t a date.”

Jessie paused the game and put her controller down. “Okay, but can we be honest? You guys were already kinda dating.”

“What?”

“She’s right, Jones,” Cindy said. “I mean, you guys went out for lunch together, he took you to La Marinara, you made him dinner…”

“Not to mention all those nights he crashed here,” Jessie added. “How is your mom okay with that, by the way? If a boy steps foot on our block, my dad starts digging a shallow grave.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, my mom’s always kinda said that she’d rather I be safe and at home than unsafe and in some back alley?”

“Seriously?” Cindy asked.

“Yeah, she keeps condoms in the medicine cabinet and everything. She’s just very chill about it. Plus, I mean, she’s been trying to convince me to make a move on Peter since Christmas.”

“She actually wants you to- that’s wild.” Jessie sat back and contemplated her life.

I laughed. “My mom’s a vodka aunt, that’s my only explanation.”

After we finished playing our video games, Cindy and Jessie went home so they could get ready for the club tonight. I’d only end up picking them up later, but my bathroom was too small for three girls to get ready in, so this was the solution.

I slapped on some makeup and did my hair, then texted the girls to make sure they were ready and picked them up. Cindy was pouty because I texted her crush, Miles, and told him to meet us at the club, but I didn’t pay attention. I knew Miles liked her just as much as she liked him. Honestly, Jessie and I just needed her to get together with Miles so she would stop complaining about being single while Jessie and I were in relationships.

“I don’t know why you had to tell him to come,” Cindy whined, arms crossed and staring out the window.

“Well, you won’t do anything about it, so MJ had to step in,” Jessie said, turning to face Cindy in the back.

Cindy huffed.

“You know what? Don’t even complain about it because we both know that by the end of the night, you guys will be playing tonsil hockey in a bathroom.”

“No, we won’t!”

Jessie and I looked at each other.

“Yeah, you will.”

She paused. “I’m still mad at you, Jones.”

“You won’t be by the end of the night, Moon.”

We pulled up to the club, showed our fake IDs, and went in. We went to coat check and dropped off our purses. I went over to the side and got a “designated driver” wristband. The wristband just stopped the bartenders from giving me any alcohol, which was good, because I didn’t want some guy to try to convince me to buy a drink.

Miles texted me and told me he was at the bar, and I’d already lost Cindy and Jessie, so I made my way over to the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Jones, it’s been a while.” Miles gave me a quick hug. “We haven’t talked since…before prom.”

“Yeah.”

“I missed you. We used to be super close.”

“Yeah, don’t get too emotional, Morales, we’re at a nightclub.”

He laughed. “You’re the same as always.”

“Hey, I’m getting better! I’m dating Peter now.”

“You are? Fucking finally.”

I laughed. “Yeah, you called it, and everyone else.”

“What happened?”

“You want the whole story?”

“Of course I want the whole story!”

I told him the story, from the night we got drunk, to the gala, to the photoshoot, to the night of our first date. He was so happy for me. It was really sweet.

Right after I finished the story, the bartender came over. “Can I get anything for you two?” she asked, staring at Miles.

Interesting.

“I’ll have a beer,” Miles said.

She seemed fascinated by that answer.

“I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

She didn’t even acknowledge me.

Ooh, Cindy would be so jealous if she could see this. Where was she?

“She asked for a Diet Coke,” Miles told the bartender, giving her this cool smile. She giggled, then went and got us our drinks.

“She’s into you.”

“Nah, she’s just- okay, I can’t pretend. She was definitely hitting on me.”

I laughed. “God, I missed you, Miles.”

“Right back at you, Jones.”

“You should let her hit on you a little. It’ll make Cindy jealous.”

He smiled. “Well, if you say so.”

The bartender came back, slid my Diet Coke to me without even a look in my direction, and leaned over the counter to talk to him.

“So, I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said, touching his arm. “Are you new in town?”

He gave her the same cool smile. “Nah, honey, I just don’t come here often.”

“You should,” she giggled.

At this point, I was furiously texting Cindy to get over to the bar.

“Hey, you’re on your phone at a club, that’s not a good sign.”

I turned around. There was a guy standing behind me. He was a few inches taller than me and was wearing a muscle shirt and holding a beer.

“Oh, just texting a friend to let her know where I am.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s, uh, it’s a long story. She’s off dancing somewhere in the crowd.”

He laughed. “You should dance with me, too.”

I raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of my Coke. “Oh, should I?”

“What are you drinking, girl? Is that a Coke?”

“Yeah.”

“You came out to a club and you’re drinking soda?”

I held up my wrist so he could see my designated driver wristband.

“Should’ve Uber’d.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m fine with not drinking for one night.”

“Are you one of those you-don’t-need-alcohol-to-have-fun girls?”

I laughed. “Well, I mean, you don’t need alcohol to have fun. It sure fucking helps, but you don’t need it.”

He smiled. “I like you. Let me buy your drink.” He touched my arm.

I looked at his hand. Did I tell him I had a boyfriend?

It was just a harmless Coke. I wasn’t about to make out with him.

“Alright.”

Cindy texted me back, so I told her where I was and that someone was hitting on Miles. I told her to just go up and pretend they were dating. She was resistant, but jealous, so she eventually agreed.

We were talking on the Midtown group chat, so Peter hopped on as I was telling Cindy that I was letting some dude buy me drinks.

He didn’t get angry or anything, but he did suggest that I tell this dude I have a boyfriend.

I loved having a boyfriend.

Cindy showed up behind Miles, put her arms around his bicep, and said, “Hey, babe, I was wondering where you went.”

The bartenders eyes went wide, and then she walked away. Cindy let go of Miles’ arm, but he just put it around her shoulders.

“So, do I get to know your name?”

I looked back at the guy who was buying my Coke.

“Oh, um, I would tell you but-”

“Are you dating someone?”

“How did you know?”

He smiled, kind of a sad smile now. “I know that tone pretty well. Your boyfriend’s a lucky guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He handed me a couple dollar bills. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I did offer to buy your drink, and I’m a man of my word, so here you go.”

I smiled. “Thanks, dude. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

He disappeared into the crowd. He seemed like he was a good dude.

Cindy eventually disappeared with Miles. Jessie and I found her dancing with him later on, drunk off her ass. Her lipstick was smudged, and we never did know for sure if they made out that night, but we certainly thought so.

Driving Cindy and Jessie home was a whole adventure, since both of them were extremely drunk, but I managed it. I felt like a good mom friend.

**June 27 th**

Peter showed up half an hour early, which was not good, because I was not ready yet.

“Dude! I was counting on your being here at noon, not half past eleven!”

He walked into my apartment, closing the door being him. “I wish I had an excuse, but I just really wanted to see you.”

I squinted at him. “You’re cheesy.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He kissed me, wrapping both his arms around my midsection and pressing me close.

Moments like this made me so happy. It felt like my heart was jumping out of my chest. He just stormed in, earlier than planned, and kissed me. No awkward build-up, no nose bumping or where-do-I-put-my-hands. Just kissed me, and held me close, like he was absolutely confident that I was into it. I was, so I guess it worked out.

But this was amazing. Just that I got to have him in this capacity. That I didn’t have to lie awake at night wondering if he felt the same way. I didn’t have to worry that he didn’t want me to touch him, or hug him, or hold his hand, or kiss him. And Peter didn’t worry about it either, and he was the King of Worrying. The boy worried about his Pop Tarts when they were in the toaster and he couldn’t see them. But he didn’t think twice about just kissing me and pressing me against his body like he’d been gone for years, and this was our reunion. We saw each other yesterday, and yet he still kissed me like this.

I loved it. I absolutely loved it.

I was the first to break the kiss.

“I still gotta finish getting ready.”

Peter smiled, his arms still firmly wrapped around me. “I’m okay with that.”

“Hun, you gotta let me go.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

He let go and shoved his hands in his sweater pockets. I went into the bathroom and finished straightening my hair, slapped on a little makeup, grabbed my purse, and headed out with Peter.

We went and got some Five Guys, which was fun because it reminded me of the gala night, and then we decided to go to a park and just walk around. It was nice. Walking through the park on a sunny day, holding hands, rambling on about shit that doesn’t matter.

“-and so Spider-Man’s hanging upside down, right? And I go to thank him for, you know, saving my ass. But for some reason, Dream-Me thought the best way to thank someone was to kiss them, so I pull down his mask, and it’s you!”

Peter laughed stiffly. “That’s a weird dream, MJ.”

“Yeah, it was weirdly vivid. I don’t know.”

“I had a dream that May and I went to the grocery store, bought a single pineapple, cut into it, and a whole bunch of pink ooze came out, but the pink ooze cured cancer, so May and I figured out how to make more of the pink ooze and started bringing it to hospitals and sharing the formula. But then it turned out than one of the side effects to curing cancer was a very delayed aneurysm. So we thought we saved a bunch of lives, but then a whole bunch of people died and we were banished to Pluto.”

I frowned. “Okay, your dream tops mine.”

He laughed, pulling me over to a bench and sitting down. I sat down next to him.

“So, um, this is gonna suck because it’s terrible timing, but Mr. Stark is taking me on an internship trip.”

“What? When?”

“We leave Friday and get back the next Monday.”

“Oh, so it’s like a weekend thing.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Ten days.”

I sighed, dropping my head on his shoulder. “So, we’ve been together for less than a week, and then you’re going away for ten days? That sucks.”

“Yeah, I know, I wish I didn’t have to go but-”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t have to try to get out of it, or explain yourself to me or anything. It’s an internship thing. You have to go. I get it.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good.” He was silent for a few moments, then he added, “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too, loser.”

We were quiet for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Hey, can I show you something? We’ll have to go back to my place and use my car, but…?

“Yeah, sure, let’s do it.”

We drove back to my place, got into my car, and I drove him out to the docks. There was an abandoned building that looked out over the water, and even though it was tricky, I’d found a way to get up to the roof. It was a good spot to sit and think, or get some art supplies and paint.

That’s what I planned to do with Peter. I had two bags of art supplies in the trunk. One was a backpack with different types of paint. I had a lot of watercolours, gouache, and some oil paints in there. The second bag had paintbrushes, a couple small easels, and a few canvases.

I handed him the one with the paints. It was heavier, but it was less clumsy to carry up to the roof, and I was more practiced with the whole thing than he was. I pulled my bag over my shoulders and closed the trunk.

“Alright. You ready?”

He gave me a weird look. “I guess.”

I told him to follow me and led him around to the back of the building. I stepped up on a couple of cinder blocks so I could reach a pipe, and pulled myself up so my feet could reach the window ledge just below. Above that, there was a groove in the wall, so I slid my fingers in there and swung my feet up to the pipe I had just used.

I looked down. Peter was staring at me. “We can’t just take the stairs?”

“The stairs inside are rotten. You’d fall right through. Just follow me.”

He started to climb his way up the side of the building, just behind me. He was weirdly good at it, like he was used to climbing like this.

We got to the top, and I started setting up. I pulled out the easels, which had short legs so it was easy to carry them around. I set up a canvas for each of us, then pulled out my brush containers, a spare plastic cup, and a large bottle of water.

He handed his bag off to me. I started pulling out paints and the small paint palettes I kept in the side pocket.

“How often do you do this? You seem rehearsed.”

“I come here a lot during the school year when I need to unwind. In summer I generally just paint on the fire escape by my window.”

He sat down next to me and looked out at the river. “It’s amazing up here. It’s so quiet.”

“Yeah.” I hesitated, then added, “You’re the first person I’ve ever taken up here. I’ve never even told anybody about this spot.”

Peter looked at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know, it just never occurred to me to bring anybody else here.”

Peter kissed me. “Thank you.”

“Calm down, buddy, it ain’t that deep.”

He laughed. “Sure. Whatever you say, MJ.”

I taught him how to use the gouache paints, and he tried to paint the scene from _The Shining_ with the elevator and the blood flood. I say tried because it turned into this red abstract piece that wasn’t half bad, but he wasn’t happy with it.

“I swear, I’m dating Bob Ross.”

I blushed. “It’s not that good.”

I’d painted the two of us, with flowers behind our ears, holding hands and looking at each other. I’d painted a shadow over my face and a shaft of light that lit up Peter’s.

“MJ, this is a masterpiece.”

“It’s kinda crappy. Normally, I’d spend a few days on something like this, but I wanted to finish it when I had you sitting next to me, so I could use you as a reference.”

“Can I keep it? Like, just paint your signature on the side of the canvas and I’ll hang it up in my bedroom, and then one day when you’re a famous artist, it’ll be worth millions, and I’ll refuse to sell it.”

I laughed. “I’m not gonna be famous.”

He gave me his best puppy-dog eyes and melted my heart.

“Fine. Turn around, though.”

I turned the canvas over and painted a little note on the back.

“Peter,

Roses are red, violets are blue, I want you to know how much I love you.

MJ”

I painted a little heart next to my name, blew on the paint to dry it, and flipped it back around.

“You’re not allowed to read that until you get home.”

“Seriously? Come on, MJ.”

I laughed. “So, do I get your masterpiece? Because I have an empty wall above my desk that it would look great on.”

“But it’s so bad,” he whined.

“No, it isn’t. It didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, but it’s still great.”

 He rolled his eyes. “Fine, I suppose.”

I grinned, taking his painting off of his easel. “Thanks, babe.”

We waited for our canvases to dry completely, then packed everything up, used the fire escape to get down, got back in the car, and drove back to my place.

“Thanks for the painting,” Peter told me, getting out of my car and getting the painting out of the back.

“You’re welcome. Here, I’ll walk you to your car.”

I walked with him out of the parking garage and into the visitor lot.

“So, I’ll see you at the party tomorrow, I guess,” Peter said, putting the canvas in his trunk.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Hey.” He closed the trunk and put his hands on my waist. I put my hands on his shoulders.  “It’s only ten days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know. I’m gonna miss you, that’s all. I feel like I already do.”

“I don’t leave until Friday,” he chuckled. “How could you possibly miss me already?”

“I just do.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

That…was the first time he’d said it sober. Or since we’d been dating. I mean, I knew he loved me, but I wasn’t expecting him to say it.

“I love you too,” I told him. My voice was quieter than I intended, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, but Peter’s face lit up. He gripped my waist tighter and kissed me. I leaned in against his body, wishing I never had to pull away. We had one day left together before he went away and I had never wanted time go slower.

He pulled away and touched his forehead to mine. “I don’t wanna leave,” he breathed.

“I don’t want you to go.”

He pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight. It felt like we were saying goodbye already.

“You should probably go home,” I told him softly.

He pulled away from the hug and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

He reluctantly pulled away and got in the car. He started the engine, then rolled down the window. “Do you want me to drive tomorrow?”

I shrugged, saying, “I’m okay with whatever you wanna do.”

“Okay. I’ll call you later.”

“Bye.”

He rolled up the window and drove away, effectively ending the good part of my day.

**June 28 th **

Peter and I rolled into the party a few minutes late, and before I could even say “happy birthday” to Harry, Cindy was shoving a wine cooler in my hand.

“Peter drove, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink up, Jones.”

I laughed, and took a drink. It tasted weirdly good, you know, for alcohol. “What flavour is this?”

“Watermelon,” Cindy said. “Now come in and party with us, goddamn.”

She dragged Peter and I into the kitchen, where there was only one available chair. Without hesitating, Peter sat down and then patted his knee. I rolled my eyes at him but sat down across his lap. Cindy and Jessie both went “ooh” in unison. I had one arm around Peter’s neck and one hand holding a drink. He had one arm wrapped around me and Jessie passed a Coke to his free hand.

We sat there chatting and playing dumb party games for a while, before Ned came in chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

I stood up, leaving my drink with Jessie, and advanced on Ned, making him back up, but then the rest of the kitchen picked up the chant. Peter stood up and raised an eyebrow at me. I gave in, running across the kitchen, grabbing his face with both hands, and kissing him hard. Everyone started whooping and cheering.

“That’s it, that’s the whole reason why I even came to the party,” Cindy joked.

I pulled away from Peter just to slap her arm.

“Ow!”

“Oh, come on, MJ, you know that’s why you came too,” Peter teased.

I laughed, “You got me there.”

I got my wine cooler back from Jessie, then Peter and I left the kitchen to go find Harry.

“Hey! I didn’t know you guys even got here! I didn’t think you’d come, Peter, because of the trip tomorrow.”

“And miss your 17th birthday party? No way, bro.”

They did that weird Bro Hug that all guys do that’s half-handshake, half-body check.

We all chatted there for a little bit, then somebody joined in, then a few other people, and then Peter and I split off and found somewhere quiet to talk. 

“So, I can’t let you come with us to the airport tomorrow,” Peter said, looking down at his hands. “Mr. Stark said our whereabouts have to be confidential, so we have to say goodbye tonight.”

I bit my lip. “Wow. Okay.”

Peter laughed, looking like he was about to cry. “This is the dumbest thing. I sound like I’m going off to war but it’s a ten day retreat.”

“Well, what are you guys doing on your retreat?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t tell you. I really want to, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, dude, you don’t have to. I just- oh, please don’t cry.”

It was too late. A couple tears were snaking down his cheeks. I swiped them away with my thumbs and held his face in my hands.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he whispered. “I feel so stupid, because it’s just ten days-”

I stopped him. “Is it going to be a dangerous trip? Because the way you’re acting, it’s like you’re worried you’ll never see me again.”

He sniffled, smiling. “No, it’s not dangerous. It’s just ten long days without being able to contact you. If I knew I could text you or FaceTime you or something, it’d be okay, but-but…It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” I urged him.

“I’m worried you’re gonna decide you don’t want to be together anymore while I’m away.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. But not wanting to be with Peter was the least realistic thing I could think of.

“Oh, honey, I’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Pinky promise?” He held up a pinky.

I giggled. “Pinky promise.” We linked pinky fingers, and then I kissed him, taking my pinky back so I could run my hand over his chest, over his shoulder, and behind his neck. He ran one hand through my hair and held one hand firmly on the small of my back.

We’d been together for less than a week, but this felt so comfortable and familiar. I loved it. I loved him.

Ned coughed, startling us into breaking the kiss. “So, if you guys are done sucking face, we’re playing Paranoia in the living room.”

Peter kept an arm fully around me. “We’ll be right there.” Before we went out, he said, “In case I don’t get a chance to give you a proper goodbye later, like if you get drunk or something, I wanna do it now.”

I laughed, “Okay.”

He pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you. I’ll miss you. I’m counting the minutes until I get back.”

I smiled, burying my face in his neck. “I love you, too.”

He pulled away, took a breath, shook himself off, and then we went out and joined everyone else.

Paranoia was this party game we all used to play. Everyone sat in a circle, and there was a coin in the middle. You whispered a question into the ear of the person on your left, and they answered out loud. Then, you flipped the coin. Heads, you had to say what the question was. Tails, you kept your mouth shut. It was a pretty fun game.

Ned and Cindy parted to make room for Peter and I, and we sat down.

“Okay, now that we have everyone,” Ned said, “who’s starting?”

All eyes went to Harry.

“I think the birthday boy has to start us off.” I shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, I just abide by them.”

Harry groaned. “Okay, fine. Let’s do this.”

He whispered a question to the girl sitting next to him, Wendy. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t hesitate. “Dustin.” Dustin, who was a Midtown student, was sitting on the opposite side of the circle, looking terrified.

Ned flipped the coin. “Tails.”

Wendy seemed to breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

The game didn’t get interesting until some girl I didn’t know asked Jessie a question.  Jessie answered, “Ned.”

Ned flipped the coin. “Heads. You gotta spill.”

Jessie giggled. “Who in our friend group gets teased the most?”

Ned’s jaw dropped. We all laughed. She wasn’t wrong.

Jessie whispered a question into Ned’s ear, to which he responded, “Cindy or MJ.”

The coin landed on tails, but I figured the question was something along the lines of “who in this group would be most likely to murder”. Cindy and I were probably the best candidates.

Ned whispered a question into Peter’s ear. Peter had to think about this one, but eventually, he said, “MJ.”

Ned flipped the coin. Tails.

Fantastic.

It was Peter’s turn to ask me something.

“Who’s your best friend in this circle?” he whispered.

I didn’t have to think twice. “You, obviously.”

In unison, Cindy and Jess both went, “Oooooooh.”

Ned flipped the coin. Tails, again.

I had to think of a question to ask Cindy.

“Okay, between Peter, Miles, and Harry, who would you fuck, marry, and kill?”

She turned to me. “Like, in that order? Respectively?” I nodded. “Harry, Miles, Peter.”

Ned flipped the coin. “Heads.”

I laughed. “Uh, it was fuck, marry, kill.”

“So, um, fuck Harry, marry Miles, kill Peter.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Peter, but you do have a girlfriend.”

He shrugged.

I turned to him. “For the record, I wouldn’t kill you.”

He blushed, then kissed my cheek.

The game went on for a few more rounds, and then eventually dissolved as more people left each round.

“We should probably head out,” Peter said.

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed.

“I’ll go say goodbye to Harry. I’ll meet you at the front door in a bit.”

 He let go of my hand to go track down Harry. I headed to the front door and put on my sandals. He came back and joined me after a moment, slipped on his shoes, and we headed out. He took the scenic route back to my place, but we still ended up there too soon.

“I’ll see you in ten days, I guess.”

“See you then, love,” Peter whispered, leaning over and kissing me. I leaned in, trying to commit everything about it to memory. The Coke taste on his lips, my fingers running through his soft curls, the air freshener smell.

He broke off the kiss. “I gotta get home and finish packing.”

“Okay. Text me before your flight leaves.”

“Of course.”

I got out of the car. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I closed the door and waved at him through the window, then headed into the building.

I saw his car pulling away in the reflection of the glass door, and I almost wanted to cry. I was going to miss him far too much.


	9. A Good Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one's mostly fluff because the next chapter is gonna be all angst and it might hurt a lot so I figured the fluff would be a good peace offering (and also maybe make you cry more bc oof this next one is ROUGH) so anyways enjoy  
> The songs for this chapter are 33-37 on the playlist (which I lowkey recommend putting on shuffle when you're doing chores or something bc there's some b o p s on it)

**July 8 th **

Let’s get you all caught up.

The day after the party, Peter left, so my mom took me out for lunch and then we went for a walk in the park.

The day after that, Peter had an internet connection for a brief window, so he sent me a short video to tell me that he missed me. Jessie and I also went shopping, because retail therapy was our chosen bad coping mechanism.

The day after that was July 1st, and in a protest against America, the squad and I celebrated Canada Day. We drove out of the city, and set off a bunch of fireworks. We had a good time.

The next day, Tony Stark (who somehow got my number, probably off of Peter) started sending me photos of Peter. My deadbeat dad also tried to “reconnect” with me by taking me out for dinner. He tried to convince me to throw away my plans of going to NYU and going into Psychology, and instead get an MBA and take over his family business. While that was a very easy way of making money, because he owned a big company, I had too many morals to do it. He ran a gun business, and was very anti-gun control, which was against everything I stood for. He didn’t understand why. I tried to explain why I thought the USA needed gun control. Dinner did not go well.

The day after, my mom took me for froyo and we watched John Mulaney specials on Netflix.

The day after that, which was July 4th, I ignored the fireworks and festivities and made a pillow fort in my living room, then cuddled with my dog and watched Netflix.

The next morning, I headed out to my spot on the abandoned building and painted for a while. It was a good way to get my mind off of missing Peter.

July 6th, a bunch of us went swimming. The highlight of the day was Miles and I chasing down Cindy and throwing her in the pool.

Another day passed, with nothing to do but stalk Tony Stark’s Instagram for pictures of Peter. I tried to figure out where they were from the backgrounds of photos, but to no avail. That day, Peter told me he’d be busy all day and wouldn’t be able to talk to me. I didn’t think much of it.

Until this morning. When I left my room in the morning, my mom was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

“MJ? You said Peter’s on a trip with Tony Stark, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You might want to read this article.”

The headline read, “SPIDER-MAN HURT ON INTERNATIONAL TRIP”, which didn’t strike me as a good sign.

“Queens’ very own web-slinger has apparently gone international, and it doesn’t seem to agree with him. While the exact nature of his injuries is unclear, it must be more than the usual vigilante black eye, because even Tony Stark, who seems to have employed Spider-Man as some kind of sidekick, has issued a public statement. ‘He’s too hurt to be playing ball, but he’ll make a full recovery,’ the billionaire told the public.”

The article went on to speculate about what happened, if they were fighting crime, who Spider-Man was, etc. All I could think about was Peter saying that he was going to be with Stark all day.

I freaked out. I messaged by friends, and then I tried to contact Peter and Mr. Stark. Neither responded.

I went and got a milkshake, because at least going out and doing something was better than sitting at home, alone and worried as hell. However, because I have about as much luck as crushed three-leaf clover, it only made me nauseous. I went home, texting my friends again. Cindy insisted on coming over to keep me company and keep my mind off of Peter. I left the door to my apartment unlocked and texted her the code for the door in the lobby, then put my phone down. At this point, I was sitting in front of a toilet with my hair tied up, just in case.

Cindy let herself in.

“Hey, MJ, you feeling okay?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.”

“Did something else happen?”

I showed her my phone. “Mr. Stark texted back. Apparently, whatever freak accident happened got Peter, too. He’s not seriously injured, but he’s in the hospital right now.”

Cindy read the texts. “Oh, shit. At least he’s not badly hurt.”

I sighed. “I still feel like shit. Like, that’s my boyfriend, and I don’t even know where in the world he is, let alone how he’s doing. Peter still hasn’t responded to me. I’m so stressed out.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

I started to nod, and in that moment, my stomach decided it wasn’t gonna deal with that milkshake today. I leaned forward, grabbing the sides of my toilet, and started to puke.

“Shit!”

Cindy got up and got a glass of water and a damp, warm cloth. By the time she got back, I’d puked about six times.

“Here.”

She handed me the water and put the warm cloth on the back of my neck.

I was breathing heavily, and sweating from all the puking, but my stomach didn’t feel so gross anymore, so I was better.

“You okay?”

“Honestly, I’m kinda glad I threw up. My stomach feels better now.”

Cindy made me finish the water, then helped me to my feet so I could brush my teeth.

“You’re a good friend, Moon,” I mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Yeah, I know,” she teased.

I spat and rinsed, then she sat down on the couch with me to watch a movie. I ended up taking a nap. All the anxiety and nausea had exhausted me, and I fell asleep. Cindy, the angel that she was, stayed with me until I woke up, to make sure I was okay.

Later that evening, Peter finally texted me back to say he was fine, and he was getting discharged from the hospital, and he should be cleared to come back home the next day. The second I saw his name pop up on my screen, I burst into tears. My mom was in the kitchen and came over to the couch and put an arm around my while I texted Peter. When I put my phone down, I gave her a proper hug and buried my face in her shirt.

“It’s okay, baby. He’s okay. He’s coming home.”

“I know, I know.”

She let me cry into her shirt for a good ten minutes, and then when I pulled away and tried to compose myself, she said, “You really love him, don’t you?”

I sniffled. “Yeah, I do.”

She gave me this sad look. “When I was your age, I wouldn’t have known love if it hit me in the face. He’s a really good boy, MJ, you hang on to him.”

My breath was still shaky, and my voice had that gross post-crying quality to it. “I was so scared. I-I don’t want to lose him.”

She put a hand on my shoulder. “The way he looks at you, you couldn’t lose him if you tried. It would take some serious shit to pry that boy away from you.”

I laughed, wiping at my face. “Thanks. Sorry for snotting up your shirt.”

“It’s okay, MJ. I’m your mom. It’s an occupational hazard.”

I wasn’t able to sleep as well as I’d hoped that night, but it was better than I would’ve slept if I hadn’t talked to Peter or cried to my mom.

**July 9 th **

Peter’s plane was supposed to land at 8, so Ned planned to come over at 7:30 so he could hitch a ride with me to the airport to pick Peter up. Peter had a connecting flight home, so we were actually allowed to go because we wouldn’t be able to figure out where they were. Fine by me. I spent my afternoon painting a sign that said “PETER” with a bunch of snowdrops around it. Once it was dry, I rolled it up and put it in my car.

Finally, Ned showed up and we headed to the airport. We waited anxiously by the arrivals gate. I was holding my sign, playing with the corner of the poster as we waited.

“So, you guys are totally gonna third-wheel me, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yeah,” I laughed. “You guys can do your weird handshake and then he’s all mine.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to drive your car back home so you and Peter can cuddle in the back seat?”

“Is that a real offer? Because that would be amazing.”

He laughed. “As long as I’m best man at the wedding.”

“Deal.”

A few more minutes passed, and then two bodyguards came through the gates, followed by Tony Stark, a few other people who I assumed worked for him, and then finally, Peter. He was holding a bouquet and waving at us.

I dropped the sign and ran towards him, wrapping my arms around him in the most aggressive hug I’d ever been a part of.

“Oof,” he huffed softly.

“Oh, shit, I forgot.” I pulled away from him, looking at him with concern. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head and pulled me back into a hug. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I couldn’t stop smiling, squeezing my arms around him as tight as I could.

“If you ever scare me like that again-”

“You’ll kill me,” he interrupted, finishing my thought. “I know. I’m sorry about everything. I’m okay, though, I promise.”

I refused to let go for maybe twenty minutes, before Ned tapped me on the shoulder.

“Can I say hi to him? He’s my best friend, after all…”

I pulled away, taking the flowers with me, to give them a moment. They did their handshake, then Ned gave him a kind of half-hug. I realized he’d picked up the poster when I dropped it.

While they had their moment, Tony came up next to me. “Hey, kid.”

I turned and looked at him. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“You can call me Tony, MJ.” He paused, then added, “I think I owe you an apology.”

I gave him this quizzical look. “Why?”

“I should’ve told you what was going on before going public. You shouldn’t have had to find out through the news. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“He wouldn’t stop talking about you the whole trip, by the way. We had to start just telling him not to talk because we heard every story five or six times,” Tony told me. “I think I’d be more upset about it if it weren’t kind of…sweet.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Anyways, I’ve gotta get back to the base.”

He held out a hand, and shook mine, then decided he didn’t like that and hugged me. It was a very confusing encounter. Then he was gone.

Ned and Peter were finished their moment. Peter came back over to me and put an arm around me, then we went to baggage claim. We got Peter’s suitcase, then headed out to the parking lot. I tossed Ned my keys and the flowers (which ended up in the passenger seat), and then Peter and I got in the back. I ended up lying in his lap on the way home. Ned pulled into my spot in the parking lot and gave me back my keys and left the poster on the passenger seat. Ned had to walk back to his place, so he said goodbye to Peter and I, then left.

Peter and I stayed in the car for a while. I had my eyes closed and my hands were resting on my chest. Peter was playing with my hair quietly.

“Should we go upstairs?” he asked softly.

I bit my lip. I wanted to cry again. It was so overwhelming that he was back and he was okay and everything was just fine. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded again, sitting up. The second I opened my eyes, I started to tear up. “Maybe not.”

He pulled me into a tight hug. He winced slightly, clearly still in pain from his internal bleeding, but didn’t loosen his grip on me.

“If you cry, I’m gonna cry,” he whispered, his voice already cracking.

“I guess, you’re gonna cry, then.” Tears started to spill over onto my cheeks.

“MJ,” he sniffled. He started to cry, too.

I laughed through my sobs. “We’re pathetic.”

“I don’t care.”

We sat there, in the backseat of my car, crying.

“You know, normally when people spend time alone with their boyfriends in the backseat of a car, this is not what’s going down.”

He laughed. “You’re right.”

Peter broke the hug to wipe tears off of my face. He’d already kind of rubbed his tears away with his sleeves, but I went back in and wiped away what was left.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said.

“Wait, I want to see how badly bruised you are, and I don’t really feel like taking your shirt off in front of my mom.”

“Now we’re getting closer to what couples do in backseats.”

I giggled, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. He was blushing, but didn’t look uncomfortable at all. I had it unbuttoned down to his chest when I saw the first hint of purple. It bloomed over the right side of his chest, and only got darker the further down I unbuttoned the shirt. When I had completely unbuttoned it, I could see all of the bruising, from his chest down to the top of his hip. It was so intense by his ribs that I was genuinely worried he’d broken his ribs. I knew he hadn’t because he’d been to a hospital, but it was scary to see black and purple covering half of someone’s torso.

“Peter,” I breathed, “this is so bad.”

Without thinking, I brushed my fingers over his stomach, but he winced, and I immediately pulled back.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, MJ.”

“No, it isn’t, Peter. This is- I’ve never seen bruising this intense over such a large area. What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “I really can’t say.”

“Jesus Christ.” I sat back, staring at the bruising. My eyes were burning again. “You said you were okay.”

“I am! It’s not a major injury, and I tend to heal fast-”

“Peter, half of your body is purple and black.”

His breathing was shallow, like he was panicking. He started to button his shirt up again. “I know.”

“You- I- oh my god.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I practically tackled you in the airport and you didn’t say anything. It had to hurt like hell.”

“I didn’t want to stop hugging you. I-I missed you so much, MJ.”

I took a few deep breaths and looked down. “I missed you, too, Peter. It’s ridiculous. I spent all of my time thinking about you.”

He smiled this small, shy smile. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I took the poster and the flowers, and we went upstairs. I was scared to touch him, afraid of hurting him. He didn’t seem afraid at all, and pressed me against him several times that night, despite the obvious pain he was in. At some point, he stopped pretending it didn’t hurt him and whispered a little “ow” whenever I touched his bruising. I felt awful, but I was also so glad he was back.

I dropped him off at his place well into the wee hours of the morning.

“I love you,” I told him, leaning over and kissing him as softly as humanly possible.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

I watched him walk into his building. He turned and looked at me with a big smile on his face right before he went inside.

I pulled away and drove home, smiling like an idiot.

**July 10 th **

Since Peter was finally back in town, we decided to go laser tagging. We split the group into two teams, boys versus girls. It was Ned, Peter, Harry, and Miles against Cindy, Liz, Jessie and I.

The girls and I made a group chat and called our team “the future” (because the future is female) and started strategizing. We planned on ganging up on Harry first, then Jessie was going to fake a twisted ankle so we could catch Ned off his guard and shoot him, then Liz was going to distract Peter and then I’d come at him from the side, kiss him, then shoot him. Lastly, all of us would go up against Miles and get him out.

While we were strategizing, I gave the girls a warning not to body check Peter or anything, since he was pretty severely bruised.

Cindy and Ned had a $10 bet on who was going to win. As far as we knew, the boys didn’t have such an organized plan, so I figured the odds were in our favour.

The girls and I came up with code names for each of us, and then scrambled them so it was harder to catch on. We did the same with the guys.

Before laser tag, Peter was heading over to hang out with me. Before he got to my apartment, I wrote down our unscrambled code names and left them on the coffee table. When he came over, I pretended I had completely forgotten about it. I wasn’t sure if he saw it before we left for dinner, but it didn’t hurt.

Dinner consisted of Chinese food and a lot of trash talk. Ned seemed to think that having Miles on their team meant they were going to win. I brought up the time I beat Miles in paintball. Hard. By three hits to the chest, and two to the head. Miles and Ned shut up after that.

After dinner, we all headed over to the laser tag place.

“There’s no way you guys are gonna win,” Cindy said with a shrug as we all headed into the building. “We’ve got an iron clad plan.”

“Is that so, Moon?” Miles elbowed her, grinning. “I thought plans came from people with brains.”

Cindy gasped. “Excuse you, I am on an amazing decathlon team, which is more than you can say, Morales.”

“So, MJ,” Peter started, “how much did you guys actually prepare?”

I laughed. “Babe, I love you, but some things are sacred.”

I let go of his hand and caught up with the girls.

We went in and got ourselves a private room, then headed into the backroom too put on our vests and get our guns. The girls and I had been smart enough to wear all black, so that the only way of knowing where we were would be the lights on the vests, which were easy enough to conceal behind walls and corners. The boys had not been so clever, and they realized it.

“Shit, guys, we should’ve worn black,” Harry said with a sigh.

The girls and I all shared a smug look before we went in. There were 45 seconds for us to scatter before the game started and our guns and vests were activated. I hung back and lingered behind Harry. I didn’t follow him directly, but climbed up onto a platform where I had a clear line of sight. I felt like a sniper.

I pushed the button on the side of my walkie talkie. “I have eyes on Squidward. Over.”

“Me too,” Cindy added. “Over.”

“So do I. Over.” That was Liz.

“I don’t have eyes on Squidward, but I do have eyes on Smiles,” Jessie chimed in. “I’m in position. Let me know when Squidward’s out. Over.”

“Activation in five, four, three, two, one!” A loud ring when off, and the game began. I immediately took my shot at Harry, but he turned as I did, so I didn’t get him. Luckily, Cindy did.

“Squidward is down. I repeat, Squidward is down. Over.”

“Nice shot, Jelly,” I said, “We good to go for the next one? Over.”

“We’re good to go.”

There was a sharp, blood-curdling scream. Jessie really had a good one.

“Oh my god, Jessie!”

I jumped down from my platform and ran in the direction of the scream. Liz had beat me there and shot Ned as he leaned over to help up Jessie.

“What? No! That’s not fair!”

Jessie laughed. “All’s fair in love and war, babe.” She stood up on her own and kissed him on the cheek.

He looked absolutely scandalized.

“That means you owe me ten bucks,” Cindy gloated.

“Yeah, I’ll give it to you later,” Ned groaned, walking away.

“Okay, Borne Identity next. Cherry Bomb, you’re with me. You two, see if you can track down Miles and keeps eyes on him until we’re ready for him.”

Liz was Cherry Bomb, so she nodded and followed me. Cindy and Jessie split off and headed towards where they thought Miles was. Liz and I walked back to back for a few minutes until we spotted Peter. We ducked down around a corner.

“Okay, so I’ll loop around behind him, duck behind that platform, then jump out and try to catch him off guard. While I’m doing that, you go around to the other platform, jump off, _distract_ him, and shoot him.”

The way Liz emphasized “distract” made it quite clear that she wasn’t comfortable with Peter and I kissing in front of her.

You know what? Whatever. I gave her multiple chances to tell me not to go after Peter before we started dating and she always told me to go for it. At this point, it was on her that she was uncomfortable with the whole thing.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Hands in.” She put her hand out, palm facing the ground. I put mine on top.

“Three, two, one, the future is female,” we whispered in unison, throwing our arms up.

It really sucked that she was so jealous of Peter and I, because I missed being friends with her.

She stood up, and made a break for it. I watched her disappear behind a platform. “I’m in position. Five second countdown. Over.”

I army-crawled under a ledge to the platform I was heading to as fast as I could and climbed up. By now, she was jumping out, gun pointed at Peter. I could hear them talking quietly, with that sugary, negotiating voice.

Liz took a step forward. She couldn’t keep this up much longer. I jumped off the platform and ran towards them. I was coming at Peter from the side, and when he heard me running, he turned, raising his gun, but I smacked it away with one hand, grabbed his collar with another, and pinned him against the wall behind him, careful not to press on his bruises. I kissed him, and he didn’t immediately relax, but when he did, I heard Liz sigh a very frustrated sigh. I kept kissing him, reaching for my gun, then pulled back and shot him all at once.

“Oh, come on!”

I grinned. “You’re out, Parker.”

“I am so getting you back for this.”

Our victory was short lived, since Miles shot Liz as we were celebrating.

“Shit!”

I ran off and ducked behind a few obstacles.

“Does anybody have eyes on him? Over.”

“No, Jelly and I are hiding,” Jessie said. “I hate to break it to you, but you might be the only one who can face off with him and win. Over.”

“He’s on the second level,” Cindy added. “We can get ourselves up higher and be your eyes if you want. Over.”

“Sounds good. Over.”

I kept my back to walls as much as I could as I made my way up to the second level of the arena.

Jessie got back on her walkie-talkie. “We’re each up on platforms and have a pretty good view. Miles is in a maze-type area. Keep going forwards and then take your second left and you should wind up behind him. Over.”

I slowly made my way over, back to a wall at all times, gun held up just in case.

“He’s moving towards you,” Cindy warned. “Over.”

I gripped my gun tighter and hid behind a corner.

“Okay, on my mark, jump out, shoot to your left, and run to the right. Beep me if you got it. Over.”

I hit a button on the side that made a beep over the radio.

“Okay. Three, two, one. Go!”

I jumped, turned, shot blindly, ducked and rolled, and squatted behind a different corner. I realized I was in the maze.

“He ducked behind a wall, so he’s safe. You’re in the maze now, but I can see a route to him from behind. Go to your right until you hit the intersection, then go left. Over.”

I followed Cindy’s instructions, then stopped and waited for more instructions.

“Okay, keep going forward. Keep going, keep going… okay, turn right again. Forward, forward, forward, right again. You see that corner? Hide behind there, it looks like he’s about to come through that area.”

I hid, back to the wall, gun pointed where Cindy said he was coming through.

“One second, he stopped moving. Just charge him. He’s facing away from you. Oh, no, he’s facing me!”

I jumped out and shot Miles in the back before he could hit Cindy.

“Ha!”

“WOO!”

Jessie and Cindy jumped down from their positions and high fived me.

“It was a valiant effort, Morales. You were the only one on your team who got the jump on any of us, though, if that’s worth something,” I gloated.

“Ha ha ha. Laugh it up, Jones.”

“Oh, I will.”

I put the gun back in my holster and headed out into the room we entered through. The girls and I bragged endlessly about our win as we took off our vests and guns. The boys were rolling their eyes.

“Ready to head out?” I asked Peter, holding out my hand.

He refused to take it, giving me a sarcastic death glare.

“Okay, that’s fine, I’ll leave without you.”

He rolled his eyes and took my hand. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Oh, it’s on purpose.”

We got into my car and drove back to his place.

“Sorry I kinda body checked you earlier. I tried to make sure I wasn’t hurting you, but-”

“You didn’t hurt me, MJ. And as far as being killed in laser tag goes, that wasn’t bad.” He was blushing and smiling at his hands in his lap.

I realized I was chewing on my tongue. Harry was right, I really did do that all the time around Peter.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t hate it.”

We pulled up in front of his building.

“We were watching the game from the back room. You looked like a total badass.”

I grinned. “That’s the goal.”

“I didn’t know you were that athletic. When I took you to work out-”

“Your workout is absolutely nuts, Peter. I’m good at the gymnastics side of things, like balance and rolling and jumping, but the amount of weight you throw into your workouts is ridiculous.”

He laughed. “Well, these muscles don’t just happen.”

“Clearly.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Have a good night.”

“You too. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I’d always hated people who were always so cutesy and lovey-dovey with their partners, but then I got to be all cutesy and lovey-dovey with Peter, and I realized it wasn’t so bad.

**July 11 th **

I had a near death experience in the car with Harry that day. I’d agreed to go driving with him in exchange for lunch, because he spent the majority of his time in limos rather than driving himself, so he wasn’t great. He convinced me to go driving with him, and almost killed us in the process.

“Harry! Stop! Pedestrian!”

He braked and swerved, stopped just before the passenger side of the car hit a lamp post.

I sat there, breathing hard and shaking.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, offering a small smile and a shrug.

So needless to say, when I got home, I just wanted to cuddle my dog and recover emotionally. However, Mom had taken Murphy to Aunt Denise’s for the night, so I had to turn to the comfort of technology.

I opened Instagram to see the Midtown group chat was thriving. I caught up on messages and started to participate in the conversation. At some point, I thought it’d be a good idea to redirect everyone to a big dick energy quiz. The results were hilarious. Jessie, Miles, Peter, and I scored 100% BDE. Ned had 75%, which I held against him. Cindy and Liz scored lower, but I can’t recall their exact scores.

The conversation turned to hot villains and heroes, then which Avengers we were into, which Avengers had the biggest dick energy, and then poor Harry logged on and had to read all of our weird Avengers fantasies with his own two eyes. Our normally PG group chat had become PG-13, slowing veering into R-rated territory. His horror didn’t last long, though, and he joined in on our Avengers thirsting.

The really spicy part was that Peter and I were making suggestive comments to each other and playing along, which absolutely scandalized everyone else, but I was having a good time. I ended up telling Peter to come over and cuddle me. We already had plans for him to come over that evening and spend the night, but I wanted him to come over earlier.

A part of me wondered what kinds of lines we were going to cross tonight. With all the suggestive comments, it kinda seemed like something might happen.

Peter was talking about his encounters with some of the Avengers, but didn’t get too specific. The most specific thing he said was that he stole Captain America’s shield.

At some point, I implied that I’d date an Avenger, then Peter asked if I’d date an Avenger over him, to which I responded, “No, but if you became an Avenger for some reason, I’d marry you on the spot.”

That got a Miles riled up, because he wanted us to get married and live happily ever after. Peter freaked out to, but I couldn’t tell why. I said that obviously it was all hypothetical, since he wasn’t a superhero and wouldn’t ever be in a position to become an Avenger, to which he responded, “Obviously.”

Ned then changed the topic entirely and invited us all to dinner at a diner he liked. Peter said he’d go with me, so I agreed to pick him up in a couple minutes.

In the time it took for me to grab my car keys and pull on my shoes, Miles asked if anybody wanted to see a movie on Friday. I hurriedly made up excuses for everyone but Cindy, forcing them to plan a date.

I headed over to Peter’s place and picked him up. He brought his backpack, which he put in the back seat before sitting shotgun and kissing my cheek.

“You look cute.”

“I know,” I teased, quietly thanking him once we pulled out onto the road.

Normally he held my hand while we were driving, or didn’t touch me at all, but today he put a hand on my leg. I pretended it didn’t bother me, despite my heart rate jumping.

I convinced myself it was just because we were in the car and joking about our compatible dick energies (despite the fact that he’d elected to use his for good, and I’d elected to use mine for evil), but when we got into the diner, we sat down with Miles and Harry, and Peter put his hand on my thigh again. I was furiously texting Jessie, telling her about the suggestive remarks and the hand on my thigh and the fact that Peter was sleeping over.

She pretty much gave me a “if you wanna have sex with him, have sex with him” pep talk, which made my mind then and there.

I assumed Peter was having the same conversation with Ned, because he was typing furiously with his free hand and angling his phone so that I couldn’t see the screen.

Dinner seemed to drag on and on, now that I was anticipating getting into bed with Peter. Jessie was winking and raising eyebrows at me any time Peter or I said something even mildly flirtatious. Ned even made a couple of comments during dinner, which we laughed off, but they weren’t really just jokes.

Jessie and Ned were the only ones in on it, but everyone else was starting to connect the dots. You could see it on their faces.

At the end of dinner, Peter went to the front and paid for my food, which was super sweet of him. Jessie nudged me and made some comment about “extra incentive”.

I smacked her. “He’s just being nice, Jess.”

“Whatever you say. Text me after you guys do the deed.” She laughed, laughing harder when I blushed.

Peter came back over at that moment, holding his leftover chicken nuggets kind of protectively. “What’s so funny?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Harry came up behind Peter and made a grab for the leftovers.

“Dude!”

Harry laughed, practically waltzing away.

“You ready to go?” Peter asked, holding his chicken nuggets even more protectively now.

“Yeah, sure.”

I pulled my keys out of my purse and said goodbye to the others before we headed to the car.

“What was that whole thing about?”

“Oh, um, Harry was joking around about aphrodisiacs and stuff. It was stupid.”

“Chicken nuggets as aphrodisiacs? People usually go for lobster or chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“Like I said, it was stupid.”

I held his hand as we drove, mostly to stop him from putting his hand on my thigh. I was a little worried that if he did that again, I’d crash the car.

We got back to my place, and the air between us changed. It felt thick, made it hard to breathe.

“I, um, I think I owe you an apology,” Peter told me, putting the chicken nuggets down on the counter.

I frowned. “For what?”

He hesitated. “I was…pretty forward, earlier. I should’ve asked you if it was okay, but I figured you’d tell me if it wasn’t, but then I remembered the gala night and how you didn’t make a scene-”

“Whoa, Peter. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He was still fidgety. “So, um, can I kiss you now?”

I decided to take a leap of faith, and hope for the best. “Peter, you can do a lot more than just kiss me.”

He seemed to panic for a second, but then he was kissing me before I could even register that he’d moved.

He wasn’t kissing me the way he normally did, like he had all the time in the world. He was kissing me like the world was ending.

I was definitely not against it.

I tried to direct us into my room without breaking the kiss, which proved difficult. I angled us right and got us in the door, but then I backed Peter up to far and he hit the bed, falling back. Since he was clinging so tightly to me, I fell right on top of him.

I laughed, getting off of him and kneeling on the bed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath.

“You okay? How’s your internal bleeding?”

It was his turn to laugh. “God, I love you.”

I wasn’t quite sure why he was laughing at me. I figured he thought my concern was absurd, considering we were in the middle of getting quite heated.

Whatever. I took the opening and kissed him again. We kissed for a few seconds before he broke it to kneel on the bed with me, then we got to make out properly with no weird head angle and no falling over furniture. Just us.

It felt like we were the only two people on Earth.

I took my hands off Peter and started to take my shirt off. Peter stopped me, holding my arm still with hand and pulling away from the kiss.

“I-I just- are you sure? Because I want you to do this because you want to, not because I pressured you somehow-”

“Peter, I can’t imagine you pressuring me into sex.”

“So-so you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He took the hem of my shirt out of my hands and ripped the shirt off of me in one fluid motion.

I’ll leave the rest of _that_ up to your own imagination.

When we were done, he put his boxers back on, and I wore his shirt and my underwear. We went out into the living room and ate his leftovers and played a few card games.

Around 1, we got back into bed. I had my head on Peter’s chest, and we were all cuddled up, and knowing that I got to sleep like this was almost better than the sex. I could just lie here, enjoying his presence all night long. It was pure heaven.

He fell asleep almost immediately. I couldn’t sleep. I think I was too wired from the events of the day. It had been a long one, to say the least. I ended up texting Jessie a play-by-play of what had happened, and then there were a few of us chatting on the group chat. I made a couple sly comments about the whole affair, mostly because I knew everyone else already knew. Peter wasn’t very subtle, and neither was I tonight.

Around 3, Peter woke up and kissed my shoulder as I was texting Jessie. I sent her a final text before putting my phone down and turning over.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?”

I shook my head.

“So, I need to learn to tire you out more,” Peter teased.

“Good luck. I’m pretty spry.”

“Is that so?” He got on top of me and started tickling me mercilessly.

“Peter!”

He didn’t stop, instead lifting the shirt I was wearing so he could tickle me more effectively. I tried to twist out of his grasp, but he had a fairly easy time overpowering me.

I grabbed my phone and texted the group chat as Peter was tickling me, and instead of getting helpful answers, I got this response from Ned, “Peter’s in one of two moods while cuddling; ‘damn I wanna bang her’ or ‘let’s tickle her and annoy her’.”

I almost asked him how he knew, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know.

Eventually, Peter stopped tickling me, but kept me pinned down so he could kiss me a few times. Then he laid back down next to me and cuddled me again. I kept texting the group chat, mostly because any innuendo made Ned uncomfortable, even if he was the first to make the joke. I just found it fun to annoy him like this. Peter was on the group chat for a bit, too, but he was mostly just lying there, playing with my hair. After a while. I put my phone away and turned all of my attention to Peter. By now, it was five in the morning and the sun was starting to rise.

“I have a question, but you have to promise to take me seriously and not tease me about this.”

“That’s not a good way to start off, Peter,” I joked. When I saw the look his face, I dropped my smile. “Yeah, promise.”

“Do you…feel any different?”

I frowned. “Physically-speaking, I feel the same, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I meant, like, mentally. Emotionally.”

I looked at him. “I feel like I know you better.”

He smiled wide. “Okay, good. Me too. I wasn’t sure if that was just me.”

I shook my head. “Not just you. Although, I think there’s a biological explanation. When humans have sex, the brain releases certain chemicals and hormones that are meant to help form an emotional bond with the person you’re having sex with, so I figure that the feeling that we know each other better comes from those bonding hormones.”

He smiled. “I don’t know why, but I thought of _Avatar_ and the connection with the hair and the bonds they all have.”

I giggled. “Not the same kind of bond, Peter.”

“I know, I know.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So…do you want to get to know each other even better?” Peter offered, shy at the beginning of the sentence and smirking confidently at the end.

I laughed. “We gotta make sure our big dick energy is really compatible, and there’s only one way to test that.”

Peter pressed his lips to mine, rolling himself on top of me in one smooth motion.

I suppose I should spare you the details, once again.

**July 13 th **

It was a pretty normal evening. I was doing my own thing at home, getting ready for dinner with my dad and texting the Midtown group chat. Miles and Cindy were at the movies. Things were good.

I asked Miles how the date was going, and he said it was going well. The movie had finished, Cindy was in the bathroom, and he was going to walk her home.

A few minutes passed, and Cindy hadn’t gotten out of the bathroom. Miles was worried.

I suggested he get a female employee to go in and check on her.

Then, we got The Text.

Miles: Guys something bad happened to Cindy I dunno where she is and she just left all her stuff in the bathroom and I’m terrified can y’all please meet me at 90-18 Astoria Blvd quick!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will go through July 13th in a lot more detail as well as MUCH MUCH MORE and I'm very excited to post it because I think it'll be a good one


	10. poof (part 1 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so there's no confusion, it's from Cindy's point of view until the line break, then switches back to MJ's POV. I think I made that pretty clear but I wanted to say something just in case :)  
> The songs for this chapter are 38-40

**July 13 th **

“Cindy, milady, am I allowed the pleasure of walking you home?” Miles held out a hand and half-bowed, dramatically.

I tried not to giggle, instead putting my hands on my hips. “You may have to joust for it, Sir Cheese-A-Lot.”

He laughed. He had such a wonderful laugh.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah, you can walk me home, I guess,” I teased. “Lemme use the bathroom first.”

“Okay.”

I went into the bathroom. There was one stall door closed, and the bathroom was otherwise empty. I went to a sink, put my purse and phone on the counter, and washed popcorn and butter residue off my hands. I wanted to hold Miles’ hand on the way home, and I didn’t think “butterfingers” was a nickname I wanted.

I turned off the tap and went to go dry my hands. I heard the stall door open behind me, but I didn’t pay attention. I was sort of humming to myself as I dried off my hands.

My vision went dark. There was a soft fabric over my head. A pillow case?

I yelped as I realized what was happening, but whoever had thrown the pillow case over my head pulled the back of it, tightening it, and effectively choking me. I couldn’t breathe.

I was in this weird limbo state. I couldn’t tell if I was panicking or not. I noticed I wasn’t doing a whole lot to fight back.

No, I was definitely panicking. I just couldn’t fight back. The pillow case must’ve been soaked with chloroform. I was getting dizzier and dizzier. I wanted to call for help but I couldn’t get in enough air.

I let my legs go, hoping the fall would throw my attacker off, but they caught me with an arm around my midsection.

“I got her, boss!”

“Bring her through the window.”

I noticed they were both male voices before I completely lost consciousness.

* * *

 

I spent most of the day trying to figure out if I wanted to go to dinner with my dad that night. He was a stuck-up Republican who’d ditched my mom the second she got pregnant, and didn’t even try to get to know me until a few months ago. As far as I knew, he didn’t know anything that I hadn’t told him. He could barely remember what school I went to, let alone anything of actual substance.

However, he’d offered to give me an allowance of $100 a week in exchange for going to dinner with him a couple times a month, and I could put that extra money in my college savings. He was paying for dinner, he was giving me money, and all I had to do was smile and nod for a couple hours a month. So, I agreed.

I spent a good couple hours getting ready, since I knew he was taking me out for some fancy steak dinner. Normally, it would’ve taken me maybe an hour and a half to get ready, but I wasn’t super focused. Miles and Cindy were on their date, and Ned and Jessie and I were talking on the group chat, so I’d blend some eyeshadow then text some stupid joke to them.

Just before six, I asked Miles and Cindy how the date was going. Miles responded, saying it was good and that Cindy was in the bathroom. A few minutes passed, and she wasn’t out yet. I told Miles to find a female employee at the theatre to go in and make sure Cindy was okay.

But she wasn’t. She was entirely gone. She’d left behind her purse, including her phone, which meant that she hadn’t just decided that she was sick of the date and crawled out the window. She’d be taken.

I told Miles to wait at the theatre and told him I’d pick him up and take him to the police station. I tasked Liz and Jessie with calling her mom and checking the hospital to make sure Cindy wasn’t there, since a missing persons report couldn’t be filed before those steps were taken.

The officers at the station were really kind. They had us sit down on a couch while we told them everything we knew and filled out the report. One even got Miles and I some hot chocolate, saying, “Hot chocolate makes everything just a little bit better.”

Given the circumstances, it was difficult to believe that Cindy had decided to leave. She was a happy girl with close friends, a good home life, no skeletons in her closet (at least, that we knew of). The cops agreed with our theory that somebody had taken her. We tried to come up with a list of people who might’ve wanted to hurt her, but we didn’t know of anybody who would.

After we’d filed the report and talked to the cops, we went back to Miles’ place. We’d ended up telling everyone to meet us there afterward.

“Do you want me to drive back so you can text your dad and tell him you’re not going to dinner?”

I breathed out, slowly, trying to keep calm. “Yeah, sure.”

When I told my dad, he blew up at me, telling me he thought I was lying about Cindy. I got mad right back. I didn’t owe that jackass any respect.

“Fuck that guy,” I snapped, dropping my phone in my lap once we’d stopped fighting.

“So, he didn’t take it well?”

“He thought I was lying about Cindy going missing.”

“Wow. I know you’re probably tired of all of us saying this, but your dad’s a dick.”

“I know. But he’s a dick with a net worth of over four million bucks, so it’s nice that he knows enough about me to put me in his will.”

“What? How much do you get if he dies?”

I hesitated. “I think about one and a half mil.”

“Holy shit, Jones!”

“Yeah, we were talking on the group chat earlier about murdering him. As a joke, obviously, but now I think I’d actually do it.”

He laughed. “I’d help you.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

He parked my car in the visitor spot and we went into his apartment. Everyone else was already there, waiting. A couple of them had brought food. Chinese takeout, pints of ice cream, that sort of thing. We all sat around, talking quietly and eating. Jessie and I were holding hands tightly. It was a somber room, drained of our usual energy as a group. There was no joking around, no playful shoving or smacks, no sarcasm, no teasing. None of that. Just quiet “I hope she’s okay”s and “can you imagine how scared she must be?”s and a lot of anxiety. I wanted to cry, to be honest. One of my closest friends was gone, and we didn’t even know if she was still alive. I didn’t want to cry in front of everybody though, so I asked Miles if it was alright if I sat in his room for a bit so I could be alone. Of course, he said yes, so I left the living room and disappeared into his bedroom without a word. I sat down on the ground at the foot of his bed and pulled my knees to my chest. Tears started to stream down my face and I was struggling to get in a full breath. My whole body was shaking. I felt like there were bricks on my chest, squeezing the air out of my body. I dropped my head, resting my head on my knees, sobbing silently. I felt selfish, being the only person who could isolate themselves at the moment, but that didn’t stop me from staying there and crying my eyes out.

After a few minutes, I heard the doorknob turn. I looked up, already wiping at my tears, but it was Peter. He closed the door quietly behind him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I wanted to follow you in here right away, but Jessie said to give you a couple minutes to yourself.”

“Oh.” I sniffled, wiping at my face again. I was wiping my makeup off, and I could see the colour of my foundation on my sweater, but I couldn’t care less. It’d wash off.

“Do you want a hug?”

I choked out a, “Please?” and started sobbing again. He knelt on the ground next to me and pulled me into his lap. I cried into his t-shirt, my whole body shaking with every sob. Peter started to cry, too, and I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear for Cindy or out of empathy for me.

It took us a long time to cry it all out.

“I’m sorry about crying all over your shirt,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry for crying into your hair.”

I almost smiled.

“Thanks for coming in here. I needed someone to cry with.”

“No problem.”

He helped me stand up, and we went back outside. Ned made a weak joke about us breaking in Miles’ bed. Nobody laughed.

I didn’t stay much longer. After a while, I just didn’t want to be around everyone and feel Cindy’s absence so heavily, so I drove myself home.

All I wanted to do was sleep, but I was scared and paranoid. I went and locked every window, the front door, then double- and triple-checked every single one.

There was one window that didn’t lock in the whole apartment. It was in the kitchen. It was too small for someone to get through, and there was no fire escape running by it or anything. It was just a small window.

I was too paranoid to leave it, though. I kept thinking about Cindy, and I didn’t want to go missing like that.

I cleared a space on the counter and sat there, legs crossed, TV on in the background, and watched the window. Murphy came and hopped up next to me at some point, and fell asleep in my lap.

I couldn’t sleep. I was exhausted in so many ways, but my brain was going a mile a minute, thinking of terrible fates that could await me if someone broke in through that window. Human trafficking, murder, torture, one of those underground experiments they did on people to see if they had mutant DNA and exploit them for their powers.

Any of those things could’ve happened to Cindy.

So I stayed up, watching the sunrise, wishing I’d fallen asleep and woken up, only to realize it was all a dream. That was too much to hope for, though.

**July 14 th **

None of us slept that night. At some point, everybody ended up at my place, taking sleep shifts. I ended up staying up the whole time, sitting on the kitchen counter while my friends slept on my living room floor.

Miles woke Peter up at the end of his shift, and laid down in Peter’s spot. Peter came over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to me.

“Have you even laid down yet?” Peter whispered.

I shook my head. “No.”

He followed my gaze to the window. He seemed to put it together that the lack of a lock on it was making me nervous. “Nobody’s gonna come through there.”

“I know.”

“Then why-”

“Just because I know doesn’t mean I’m okay with it.”

He nodded.

For a moment, the only noise in the apartment was Ned’s quiet snoring.

“I don’t like that all we can do is tell the police,” Peter whispered. “I-I want to do more.”

“I know, Peter, but there’s nothing we can do. Unless you want to ask Tony to take care of it.” It was a weak joke.

He let out a breath. “What time is it?”

I moved so he could see the clock that hung on the wall behind my head.

“I gotta go do some internship stuff.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be back by... five thirty.”

“Peter-”

He gathered up all of his stuff and started to head out, stopping by me one more time.

“I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you, too.”

He kissed me really quickly and headed out the door.

I noticed Liz had woken up. She was looking at me, then looked down at her phone.

I sighed. I felt like I had whiplash. That whole interaction had happened so quickly. I couldn’t process it properly.

As everyone woke up, one-by-one, they thanked me for letting them crash and headed out.

I decided to sit down with a book. I hadn’t caught up on my unread books in a while and it’d be a welcome escape. So, I lit a couple aromatherapy candles, picked a book, and read on my window seat for a while.

I gave up on the book after a few hours. I ended up talking to the people in the group chat for a while, trying to figure out who would’ve wanted to take Cindy.

Normally, I was super sensitive to the fact that Liz’s dad had been arrested the year before and tried not to mention it or allude to it. However, I made a comment about people being hurt by people they knew, and hadn’t thought too hard about it, and Liz snapped. It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about, but when I did, I apologized. That immediately de-escalated the situation, and calmed everything down.

A couple more hours passed, and at 5:40, I realized I hadn’t heard from Peter yet. Ten minutes late wasn’t a huge deal, but I was on edge and a little paranoid, so I messaged Mr. Stark. I told him that Peter said he’d be home by 5:30 and that I just wanted to know that he was still with Mr. Stark and just running late.

Mr. Stark hadn’t heard from him all day.

Peter lied to me.

Peter was out somewhere, probably looking for Cindy, and none of us knew where he was.

I called him a few times and texted him like crazy, and eventually gave up. I asked Harry to come over to keep an eye one me, and opened the liquor cabinet.

I started doing shots like nobody’s business. I just wanted to be drunk out of my mind. During the process of getting drunk, Ned and I ended up getting in a fight. We threw around some harsh words. I told him that he had done nothing and that he couldn’t play the moral high ground card. He got mad at me for drowning my problems in alcohol. It wasn’t a long fight, and we apologized quickly, but it hadn’t helped. I think I had eight shots in me by the time Harry managed to stop me.

I was close to blackout drunk, but not quite. I definitely couldn’t type very well, nor could I walk or anything.

Mr. Stark started texting me again, and very quickly realized I was drunk. He made sure I didn’t go out looking for Peter, and that was that.  

“Harry, do you think Peter’s dead?” I slurred, dropping my phone.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s probably just fine, MJ.”

“But he’s probably out looking for Cindy. And that’s dangerous.”

“It is, but Peter’s always okay in the end. He’s just fine.”

We went back and forth like that for a while, until Peter finally texted me back, just before eight. He tried to push the internship lie again, so I sent him screenshots of my conversation with Mr. Stark. We argued about his safety and I told him that I just needed him to come over and hug me. Which was true. In that moment, all I cared about was that he was okay.

He was over in a few minutes, and the second I opened the door for him, Harry excused himself to the fire escape to give us some privacy.

Peter came in and hugged me really tight, which calmed me down a little. He was here and whole and everything was okay.

“Please don’t do that again,” I mumbled against his neck.

“What?” He pulled away really suddenly. “You don’t want me to go looking for Cindy?”

Oh, he was getting mad? What the hell?

“I can’t tell you what to do, but yeah, I wish you wouldn’t try to play hero like that.”

He took a deep breath. “You’re just drunk.”

“I’m just drunk?”

“MJ, you’re wasted. Just drink some water and go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

“No, we’re gonna talk about this now, because for all I know, you’re just gonna go out and ignore me again all day tomorrow. And then we can’t have this conversation.”

“What do you want me to do? Nothing?”

“That’s better than putting yourself on the line for a girl who could be dead!”

He stepped back. “She’s not dead,” he said softly. “Cindy can’t be dead.”

My eyes had filled with tears. “We don’t know that. It’s not our job to know that. It’s the police’s job and I don’t know why you’re doing it!”

“Because they never do anything!” His voice had started rising in pitch. “They-they won’t find her. They’re probably barely looking for her!”

“You can’t make that call, Peter. And if you go out there looking for her, we could lose you, too.”

He sighed, and ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. “MJ, if you had the power to stop something, and you didn’t, would you feel like that’s on you?”

I blinked. My drunk brain was trying to make a connection, but couldn’t. “I…that’s…”

“Because I do.”

I frowned. “You couldn’t have saved her, Peter. She was on a date with Miles. What were you going to do, swoop into the back alley like goddamn Spider-Man and-”

“That’s not the point, MJ! I just- I have access to Tony’s tech and it’d be irresponsible of me-”

“What’s irresponsible is not answering your phone, or coming back two and a half hours after you said you would, or-”

“I didn’t even have my phone with me.”

That pissed me off. “ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ” I shouted. “I thought you’d turned it off or made it harder to track somehow but- Peter, that’s so _fucking stupid!_ What if you’d run into Cindy’s kidnappers? What if they took you, too? How would we ever find-”

“They wouldn’t take me!”

“You can’t-”

“MJ, I just need you to trust me! I know what I’m doing.”

I laughed humourlessly, tears streaming down my face. “That doesn’t help, Peter.”

“You’d understand if you were sober.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Stop bringing up my drunkenness. It’s not relevant.”

“Yes, it is, MJ.”

“The fuck it is.”

He sighed. “I can’t do this with you right now.”

“I can’t do this either, Peter! Why do you think I ended up drinking, huh? This isn’t fun-drunk.” I was still shouting and slurring and I was so dizzy, it was a miracle I was still standing.

“Why couldn’t you just deal with it like the rest of us?”

I wanted to scream and cry and punch something or do anything but stand there shaking. “If you haven’t noticed, Peter, I’ve never had good coping mechanisms! This is it, this is all I’ve got.”

“You could come to me.”

“Oh, could I? I could go to you?” I pulled out my phone and opened my call log. I showed it to him. “How did that work out for me today?”

“MJ, it’s one day-”

“One day that could’ve gotten you killed, Peter. We wouldn’t know where you were or when you disappeared or anything! You’re- you’re being a dick!”

“You’re the one who called me over here to yell at me!”

I had to stand back and take a breath. I was shaking and crying and I couldn’t even see straight. I ran my hands through my hair.

“Jesus Christ, Peter. I didn’t call you over here to yell at you. I called you over here because I was worried out of my mind. Ned and I fought because of this. I’ve been texting Mr. Stark for hours about you. I’m- I’m scared to lose you like we lost Cindy. I can’t fucking lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You can’t promise that, not if you’re going out and playing hero!”

“I’m not just ‘playing hero’, MJ, I know what I’m doing!”

“How? How on earth could you know what you’re doing?”

He hesitated, staring at me, gears turning in his head.

“Forget it. I’m going home.”

My eyes widened. “You’re just gonna walk out? Just like that?”

“Yes, MJ, because I don’t want to fight with you like this!”

“You won’t even listen to me,” I argued.

“I can hear you loud and clear.”

“Then keep your phone on you, Peter. At the very least. So we can find you-”

“I can’t do that!”

I stared at him. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I couldn’t get through to him.

“I- I’m going home. I’ll call you later, when you’ve sobered up maybe-”

“Don’t.”

He gave me this look, just absolutely exhausted and hurt. And then he walked out. The door slammed shut behind him.

These awful, choked sobs were coming out of me. I couldn’t even stand, so I fell to my knees, a hand over my mouth, staring at the door.

Just like that. He left.

It was so easy for him.

I heard the window open. I wiped the tears off my face.

“MJ, do you wanna-”

“Just give me a minute.”

I got up and darted into my room, closing the door behind me.

I sat on my bed for a while, shaking and trying to stop crying. I wanted to have another drink. Maybe it’d push me over into blackout drunk and I wouldn’t have to remember anything. I wouldn’t have to remember my first real fight with Peter, and how he pushed me away like he didn’t care about me.

It was so out of character for him, to act like he didn’t care. He was the most caring guy on Earth. How could he act like I didn’t matter to him?

Unless I didn’t.

I took a deep breath, and left my room to head for the liquor cabinet.

“MJ, no.” Harry got in my way, holding me back.

“Harryyyyyyy,” I whined, “just one more drink.”

“MJ, you’ve done eight shots of vodka. If you have another drink you could end up getting your stomach pumped or something.”

I shook my head. “No, I won’t. Just let me have one more drink.”

“No. You told me to come over so I could stop you from doing something stupid. I’m just doing my job.”

I backed down. “Fine.” I sat down on the couch and pouted for a bit. “What if we went swimming instead?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna get changed.”

“MJ-”

I ran back into my room and changed into a bikini, then pulled a light dress over it.

“Come on!”

“Jesus, MJ, slow down.”

I grabbed my keys and a towel and ran out the door. There was a swimming pool in my building, and it was almost always empty at night, so I headed down there. Hopefully swimming would clear my head. At least, if I started crying again, I could dunk my face in the water to hide it.

Harry ran after me, accepting that he wouldn’t be able to stop me if he tried. I was running with one hand against the wall to keep myself stable, but just before the elevator, I lost my balance and fell backwards. I felt one arm wrap around my waist, and then another, and then almost all of my weight was against Harry.

“You okay?” he asked.

He was so patient with me when I was drunk. A true miracle friend.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He helped me stand back up, and kept one hand on my back from there to the pool. Once we got down there, I took off my dress and jumped in without a second thought. Harry sat at the side of the pool, keeping an eye on me.

“You could swim with me, you know.”

“I don’t have my trunks with me.”

“So? You’re wearing boxers, aren’t you?”

“I’m not gonna swim with you, MJ. I’ll jump in if you’re drowning, but that’s about it.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t push it. I swam around for a bit, chatting idly with Harry. I did one of the “ask me anything” sticker things on my insta story, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Fighting with Peter put me in a funk and I kinda just wanted to sleep until everything was better. Until Peter stopped putting himself in danger and Cindy was back and everything was okay.

I was lying on my back in the water, floating, eyes closed, singing some song I’d heard on the radio quietly.

“MJ, it’s really late, we should go back upstairs.”

“I don’t wanna move.”

“I know, but-”

“How much of our fight did you get?” I interrupted.

Harry paused. “Not a lot. I heard some of it. I tried not to listen.”

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“What Peter’s doing. Taking Stark tech and using it to try to find Cindy.”

There was a long silence, then Harry said, “I really wish he wouldn’t, but I can see why he’d do it. We’re all scared for Cindy, but he has access to Stark technology, you know? I know I’d want to do the same thing.”

“Would you, though?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’d depend on the tech, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t,” I said definitively.

“Why not?”

“The stress of losing one friend is enough. I wouldn’t want to stress you guys out with the potential of losing a second. But I guess Peter doesn’t care.”

“MJ, he cares. He cares so much that he’s putting himself in danger to try to help a friend.”

I stood up in the water and walked over to the edge of the pool, looking up at Harry. “I get that he wants to do whatever he can to help her, I do. But I don’t understand why he can’t do little things that could help us if he went missing like she did. Like take his phone with him, or-”

“Cindy’s phone was left behind.”

“But that might not have been on purpose. Maybe she put it down and then got taken. The point is that it wouldn’t hurt him to take it with him.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you see why I’m pissed off about this? Peter’s taking the love of my life and putting him in the line of fire.”

“I get it, MJ. I’m worried about him, too. I wish he wouldn’t, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I were in his shoes.”

“Don’t you have access to your dad’s tech?”

Harry huffed. “I checked. Nothing I can access would help us find Cindy. I don’t know what I would’ve done if there were something, but there wasn’t, so I guess I’ll never know.”

I watched his face as it went through a couple emotions. Frustration, exhaustion, the ones we were all feeling.

“You done in the pool?”

I didn’t want to get out, but Harry had been so patient with my drunk ass that I didn’t want to force him to play lifeguard much longer.

“Yeah, okay.”

I climbed out of the pool, dried off, and pulled my dress back on. Harry walked behind me up to my apartment. When we got in, I changed into my pajamas. Not that I thought I was going to sleep. They were comfy and warm and the only real comfort I had.

I ended up staying in my room and pouting for a bit. I’d replayed the fight with Peter in my head a few times, and now I felt like crying, and I hated crying in front of other people. I felt weak and gross, even though I knew I wasn’t. I stayed in my room and moped, cried a little, and replayed that fight. I kept seeing the look on Peter’s face when he walked out. He looked tired and worn out and exasperated, but the thing that had stuck out and hurt the most is that he seemed to feel all of that towards me. Like he was tired of me.

Every time I thought about it, I couldn’t breathe. I had my arms wrapped around my waist, hugging my self, trying to cry as quietly as possible. I was on my window seat, leaning against the window, crying over a boy who didn’t care about how scared I was for him. Life had taken a sharp nosedive for me in the matter of 24 hours.

After a couple hours of self-pitying, Harry knocked on the door and asked me to make pancakes with him. We had our breakfast at two in the morning, and then Harry went home, since I’d sobered up a little and I just kinda wanted to be alone.

I spent the rest of the night on the couch, drawing in my sketchbook. Most of the drawings turned out to be pretty horrifying.

**July 15 th **

Normally, you’re asleep during the transition of drunk to hungover. I, however, was awake that night, and it was not pleasant at all. I was slowly losing my drunken daze and gaining my hungover daze, and the middle ground was dizzying and a little painful. However, the hangover, once all the drunkenness was gone, was absolutely terrible. My head was pounding, I was nauseated, I was dizzy, and I could barely see. I laid in bed for hours, wishing I could sleep, but I couldn’t.

I knew Peter had gone out again looking for Cindy, and I knew he wouldn’t be texting me or calling me to let me know he was okay. He was probably still pissed after last night. He’d tried to call once or twice, too, but I was pissed and didn’t answer. Maybe he called to apologize, but it didn’t matter now. There was no way he wasn’t pissed.

Eventually, the hangover started to fade enough for me to get up and get food from the fridge. Unfortunately, since Mom was away on a business trip, the only food left was Murphy’s dog food.

I refilled his dishes and brought him out of my mom’s room. He ate, drank some water, curled up on the sofa, and dozed off again.

I woke him up for a quick walk, and the second we got back in, he fell back to sleep.

I was jealous. I was sleep-deprived and hungover, and jealous of my snoozing dog.

Since there was nothing to eat and I was hungry, I took the grocery credit card that my mom and I shared (but that she paid) and went to the grocery store. I bought a few standard groceries, like mac and cheese, some fruits and veggies, bread, butter, the usual. But then I realized that I could utilize the barbecue on the patio and bought a bunch of ribs, chicken wings and hamburger meat. I got to the sauce aisle and was deciding on what I wanted when _Hey There Delilah_ by the Plain White T’s came on. Maybe it was just my sleep deprivation and not the actual song, but I broke down in the middle of the aisle, crying silently as I stared at sauces. I held a hand over my face, trying to hide my tears, but I wasn’t very successful. It wasn’t a busy aisle, and most of the people who came through ignored me anyways.

After a few minutes, I felt a tap on my shoulder. This tiny, cute old black lady held out a handful of tissues.

“Thank you,” I whispered, taking them. She squeezed my hand and smiled, then walked away.

I texted the group chat about it. Miles and I agreed that she might be a god.

I checked out and headed back to my apartment. I invited everyone from the squad over for a barbecue and started cooking. I hadn’t excluded Peter, but considering how last night had gone, I didn’t think he’d show up. Why would he want to see me? I was drunk and crying and yelling last night. I wasn’t at my most loveable. I was kinda at my least loveable.

I hated the way I’d acted last night. If I hadn’t started drinking, maybe we wouldn’t have fought. Maybe I would’ve been able to think clearly and speak calmly. But nope, I was drunk and scared for him and I was a mess.

I cooked the ribs and kept them warm in a pot in the oven, then fried all the chicken and kept that warm in a pot on the stove, and left the hamburger meat so we could grill it on the barbecue. I even made a macaroni salad for Jessie, since she was vegetarian.

Once everyone was over, we all got plates and a serving of food, and headed down to the patio, raw hamburger meat in hand.  

We were all having a good time. It still wasn’t our normal group energy, since Cindy was still missing, but it was more upbeat this time. We were laughing and joking and having fun. It was obvious that some of us were tired and anxious, but we managed to enjoy ourselves.

Until, that is, Peter strolled in an hour and a half later.

“Hey, everyone.”

I looked up. He was looking at me, hands in his pockets. He didn’t look apologetic by any means, but he did look like he wanted to know if he was allowed to be there.

“MJ, can I talk to you for a sec?”

I stood up and walked over. He pulled me away, out of earshot of the group.

“The, uh, doorman said you guys were out here. I’m not just- I don’t want to make things awkward because of…last night, so if you don’t want me to be here, that’s okay. I’ll go home.”

I shook my head. I could barely meet his eyes. I felt awful. He wasn’t standing as close to me as he normally did, nor did he hold my hand or touch my shoulder or anything. “I invited everyone, Peter. I’ll run upstairs and grab you a plate. Just don’t steal my spot.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

I walked away, into the building, and the second I was in the elevator headed up to the apartment, I started to cry. Again. I hated it. I hated that I’d given somebody else the power to make me this upset, but he also held the power to make me really happy, so I guess this was the trade-off.

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, went into my apartment, got him a plate with some ribs and chicken wings, and went back downstairs, my lower lip quivering the whole time. I didn’t want to keep crying, but I was so hurt. He didn’t look happy to see me or anything. I didn’t understand why he even came if he didn’t want to see me.

When I got back out to the patio, Peter was sitting on the opposite side of the circle than my spot. I handed him his plate as I sat back down in the grass.

“Thanks.”

I didn’t trust myself to say anything back. I just nodded.

“Everything okay?” Miles whispered, leaning over.

I waved him off, like it was nothing.

It was everything, but I felt like nothing.

When Peter arrived, everyone had fallen silent, knowing full well that we weren’t talking right now.

It was the worst feeling in the world. Peter was right there, in front of me, and yet I could barely look at him. I was so angry that he didn’t care that I was worried, but I didn’t want to be. I just wanted everything to be okay. I wanted Cindy back and Peter to stop playing hero and I wanted my mom to come back into town so we could watch movies and eat ice cream and cry together. I felt like I lived in a world with no comfort. I couldn’t sleep, I could barely eat, Cindy was gone and we didn’t know what had happened to her, and I felt like I’d lost Peter.

But I got through dinner without breaking down. That was a good thing.

Harry and Miles stayed behind to help me clean up, and then I was alone in my apartment with Murphy.

I sat on the couch and watched bad movies with my dog. He fell asleep, of course.

I was up for yet another sunrise.

**July 16 th **

My dumb ass got drunk. Again. This time, it was three drinks with Harry and Jess, and then I kinda wandered out into the city. I was tipsy and alone, which was a dangerous combination if you’re wandering around the city, but I texted the group chat like that would make me feel safer. It didn’t really.

Liz got mad at Harry and I more than she did at Jess. Jess was impossible to talk to when she was drunk, so I think Liz just gave up, but she gave Harry and I a piece of her mind.

Liz: My question is why? Do you really think Cindy would be happy that you’re all drinking to forget about everything?

Harry: Sorry lizz

Liz: Cause to me it seems like you’re drinking to forget her

Liz: We can’t give up yet

Harry: Not giving up just trying to slepee

Me: I’m no t drinking to forget Cindy

Me: I’m drunking to forget oeter

That, my friends, was the wrong thing to say. I don’t think there was a right thing to say, but that was definitely not a good choice on my part. Liz got pissed.

Liz: Seriously? You’re drinking to forget Peter? You wanna forget the guy who couldn’t keep his eyes off you while I was dancing with him at prom. You want to forget that the smartest boy I know can’t think of what to say when he looks at you. You want to forget everything that boy has done to call you his own?

Liz: Mj you hit the jackpot when you got Peter. And ya it sucks that he’s putting himself in danger. I hate it too. But he’s trying to find Cindy. And that’s a lot more than sitting around and feeling pity while drowning yourself in alcohol.

It felt like a punch to the chest. I couldn’t breathe. She was right. Peter was the best guy on the planet and I was the idiot girlfriend who went out and got drunk to cope with things.

Liz and I spent a few minutes going back and forth while she tried to figure out where I was. I wasn’t super helpful. I’m actually really impressed that she managed to pinpoint where I was.

I was still stressing about Peter, though, and Liz was really helpful there, too.

Liz: The best thing you can do is sober up, talk to him, and let him know you’re there

Me: He doesnt wannna talk to me

Liz: If you really love him you’ll find a way.

I didn’t wanna wait to sober up. I wanted to fix things right freaking now.

Me: …Liz?

Me: Can yiu take me to his apartment?

Liz: Fine

Liz: But only because I’m worried about him. I want him to stop playing hero and much as you, and I want him safe.

Me: Thsnkkkkss

A couple minutes later, Liz rounded the corner and rolled down a window.

“Get in,” she said.

I walked over and got in. She barely waited for the door to close before she hit the gas. I buckled in as quickly as I could, which wasn’t very fast since I was a little drunk.

I texted Peter and told him I was coming by and wanted to talk.

He read the messages and didn’t respond.

When we pulled up outside his building, Peter was in the lobby. He came out and approached the car as I got out.

The first thing I noticed was how he wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

“Peter, I just-”

“Jesus Christ, are you drunk again?” he asked, his voice quiet. He didn’t sound mad, or surprised, really. Just sad and disappointed.

“A little bit. But I need to apologize to you, because I don’t know if I can handle not talking to you, Peter.”

“MJ, please, just go to bed and sleep it off. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” The way he said my name, it was like it was some foreign object in his mouth. Like he’d never said it before.

“No, I-I need to apologize to you.”

He didn’t say anything. He was looking at the ground. Like he didn’t even care.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you the other night and-and I’m sorry I can’t just pull myself together and stop drinking, or-or sleep, or-”

“MJ-” There it was again. The way he almost spat out my name. It was like he hated me.

“Please, just listen to me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m such a bad girlfriend. I’m sorry I can’t just stay sober. Just don’t- don’t shut me out like this so you can go and try to find Cindy, because I-”

“Okay,” he interrupted. His voice was soft, almost inaudible.

“What?”

“Okay. You’re sorry. I get it. I don’t know why you’d tell me you’re sorry for acting like this when you haven’t even stopped,” he snapped.

I didn’t know what to say. “I-”

“Don’t, MJ, please. It’s- it’s painful to watch you like this.”

“You don’t think it’s painful for me? When you come home with bruises all over you? When you go out and lie to me and try to chase down the exact kind of people that would want to hurt you? Peter, it’s- I can’t watch it happen. Why do you think I can’t sleep and keep drinking? I’m so worried about you.”

“It’s not your problem.”

“Of course it’s my problem, Peter,” I told him, my voice breaking. “I-I love you.”

He didn’t say anything. He stood there, staring at the ground, his face a blank slate.

“I just need to know that you’re okay.” I reached for his hand, but he just turned and walked away.

That was it. That was the end of it. He just-

He didn’t love me, did he?

It felt like cinderblocks on my chest, crushing my lungs. All I could get in were shallow, shaky breaths. My heart was pounding, my whole body was shaking, and I had that tingly feeling in my nose that you get when you’re about to cry.

I didn’t want to cry. I’d done so much crying in the last few days. I was so done with it.

I got back in the car, and realized far too late that the window had been open the whole time. Liz had heard the whole fight.

She didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. I just stared out the window as she drove me home.

“Thank you,” I whispered when she pulled up in front of my building.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t believe it.

I got out and she drove off. I went upstairs and laid in bed, texting Harry about the whole thing. I told him what had happened, and he comforted me a bit.

I ended up cuddling my dog again all night. I’d given up on watching the kitchen window. At this point, I didn’t really care if someone broke in and murdered me, as long as they didn’t hurt Murphy.

**July 17 th **

Sometime that afternoon, I got a message from Mr. Stark.

Mr. Stark: Hey kid you should make your way down to the avengers base. I’ll meet you in the infirmary.


	11. poof (part 2 of 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER!! I've been super busy the last couple weeks and this was a really long and dense chapter, but it's FINALLY DONE!!! It's also a whole ass emotional roller coaster so get some popcorn and get ready.  
> The songs for this chapter are 41-56 (its a long chapter sorry)

**July 17 th **

Sometime that afternoon, I got a message from Mr. Stark.

Mr. Stark: Hey kid you should make your way down to the avengers base. I’ll meet you in the infirmary.

Me: What?

Me: Why?

Me: What happened??

Mr. Stark: Peter got hurt, he’s here right now.

Fuck. This was exactly why I was scared about him going out and playing hero. Shit.

Me: Is he gonna be okay????

Mr. Stark: He’s going to be okay, but you should hurry.

Me: Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Me: Thanks for letting me know.

I pulled on the first pair of shoes I could find, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door, frantically texting my friends to let them know what was happening. Naturally, they were worried, so I promised to update them when I saw Peter.

The drive upstate was almost an hour, so I spent one very anxious hour going over a million things that could’ve happened to Peter. He could’ve been jumped, or almost kidnapped, or shot. God, he could’ve been shot.

I pulled up and into a small parking lot, then ran inside. Someone came up to me.

“Are you Michelle Jones?”

“Yeah,” I panted, shoving my keys in my purse.

“The infirmary is down this hallway, and to your left.”

“Thank you so much.”

I ran down the hall and into the infirmary. Mr. Stark was standing there talking to a nurse when he saw me. He immediately broke off his conversation and approached me.

“MJ-”

“Is he okay? Where is he?”

“Slow down, kid. He’ll be fine. I have a great team here. They stitched him up and-”

“Stitches?”

“Peter was stabbed.”

I lost my breath. I almost had to sit down.

“It wasn’t bad. It was clean and deep, under his ribs. They put him on a bunch of painkillers and stitched him up. He’s still asleep, and it might be a while before he’s up, but he’s right over there if you want to sit with him and wait.”

He turned and pointed at a curtain.

“I- uh, thank you. I’m-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I walked over to the curtain, preparing myself for what I might see. I knew the stab wound was under his ribs, but he could have other scratches and bruises, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing them right now.

I slowly pushed the curtain back and approached his bed. There were bandages stained with a little blood on his wrists, and a couple visible abrasions, but he didn’t look terrible. He actually looked like he was sleeping pretty peacefully.

I realized that I had now gone about 100 hours without sleep.

I pulled a chair up next to the bed and held his hand. I watched his chest rise and fall a few times, then pulled out my phone and texted my friends to let them know what was going on.

Mr. Stark came in after a couple minutes.

“Hey, kid, I just wanted to let you know that I had a room set up for you, if you want to stay the night. Peter will have to stay, for sure, especially since we can’t tell yet if he’s concussed or not.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Mr. Stark sat down in another chair. “We, uh, found him using some of the tech he’d stolen. I planted a tracker in that he hadn’t noticed. That was how we found him. The theory is that he managed to track down the people who kidnapped your friend and they jumped him, but we won’t know until he wakes up and tells us.”

Something about the way he said it, the way he seemed to measure out each word, implied that he already knew with a fair amount of certainty what had happened. But maybe there was something I wasn’t supposed to know, so I didn’t ask.

We sat there in silence for a while.

“I, uh, I don’t know if he even wants me here,” I admitted quietly. I didn’t know why I was opening up to an Avenger, but here I was, spilling my guts.

“Why wouldn’t he want you here? You’re all he talks about anymore. It’s becoming a bit of an issue, actually.”

“We, uh, we’ve been fighting for a couple days, and he won’t even look at me anymore. I just- I can’t imagine him wanting to see me right now.”

Mr. Stark sighed. I looked up and saw him rubbing his face. “That- oh, god. He’s not going to tell you to leave, kid. Jesus, the way he talked about you, I figured you’d be smarter…”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated, then leaned forward. “He wouldn’t look at you because he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold his ground. Not because he’s mad, not because he hates you, just because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep fighting with you.”

I looked back down at Peter’s face. “You didn’t hear the way he was talking to me.”

“MJ. Look at me.” I looked up. “I’ve been in a relationship for years. I know what I’m talking about. And I know Peter. Just trust me, he wants you here.” He stood up, smoothing down his shirt. “I gotta go deal with some damaged tech, thanks to him. Stay with him, will you?”

He didn’t wait for a response. I guess it wasn’t a request.

I waited, holding Peter’s hand, trying so hard not to cry. He’d been fucking stabbed, and I knew that this was my big “I told you so” moment, but I didn’t even care. I just wished I’d been born a mutant with healing powers or some shit, so I could just touch him and make everything better.

But everything wasn’t better. Cindy was still missing, and every minute that passed, whatever hope I had grew dimmer. Peter was hurt, seriously hurt, and there was nothing I could do to help him. The best thing I could do for him was probably to leave, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t leave him here and not know when he woke up or if he was okay or how he’d been hurt. Everything sucked pretty freaking royally.

I wrapped my other hand around his, and rested my forehead on my hands. Tears started falling from my face, hitting my hands and Peter’s hospital bed. I wanted to take his pain away. I wanted to take the knife for him. I wanted to be lying there instead of him.

But that wasn’t possible. I couldn’t do that. I didn’t have the power. I wasn’t a god.

“MJ?”

At first, I thought I’d imagined it, but then I looked up. Peter’s eyes were barely opened, but he was definitely awake.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was slightly raspy, and barely loud enough for me to hear.

I leaned down and kissed him softly. I pulled away smiling, despite the tears on my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re okay,” I breathed, “that’s all I care about right now.”

He still seemed kind of out of it, so I didn’t talk for a few minutes. I hit the “call nurse” button, and let them know he was awake, and then they kind of pushed me off to the side, ran some tests, talked to him about what happened. Peter and Mr. Stark were talking very carefully about the incident, being very vague. I asked if I should leave, but Tony told me I could stay, so I did.

During this time, Liz put a question sticker on her Instagram story, and one of the questions she’d gotten was “are you in love with Peter?”

She responded, saying something along the lines of, “There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

She was in love with Peter?

A million thoughts raced through my mind as I messaged her.

Me: Liz??

Liz:…yeah

Me: You told me you didn’t have feelings for him

Me: You told me to shoot my shot

Me: Oh my god you drove me to his apartment yesterday!! So I could try to fix things!!! Why????

Liz: I know I did. And I only drove you to his apartment so maybe he would stop playing hero (but I guess that didn’t work out so well). But even if I told you not to go for it, or to back off, Peter and I would never last. I saw the way he looked at you at prom. He doesn’t want me anymore. And how could I not love him? He is the softest, sweetest boy I’ve ever met and every time I look at him I want to run my fingers though his hair.

Liz: He is so smart and brave and has every single great quality a boy can have. But no matter how much I want him, he only wants you

My hands were shaking. She really loved him. I looked up from my phone at him, and felt this pang in my chest. I felt like shit.

Me: Oh my god…

Me: If you’d told me…

I never would’ve gone near him. It would’ve hurt like hell, but sisters before misters, right? I mean, I’d had moments where I’d thought “fuck the girl code” but that was only because I didn’t actually know…

Liz: And every time I see you together I just feel sad because I think it could’ve been us

Liz: It wouldn’t have mattered

Liz: He loves you

Liz: And it sucks.

Me: Liz if you’d told me earlier I never would’ve dated him

Me: Doesn’t matter how much I love him, you guys had a thing and I would’ve respected that

Peter looked over at me, between the doctors and nurses. I didn’t even know what I’d do without him anymore.

Liz: Even if you kept your distance I knew he wanted you. Every time I talked to him it always seemed like even though his eyes were looking at me, the rest of him was looking for you.

Me: I don’t even know what to say

Me: I’m so sorry

Me: I’ve put you through hell

I couldn’t imagine another girl touching Peter, let alone dating him and loving him. Liz must’ve hated seeing us together.

Liz: And ya I was angry for a long time. I still am a little. But how am I supposed to force a boy to love me? It would never feel real. So ya maybe my heart was broken and maybe it’s still mending. But there’s nothing anyone can do. I have to suck it up and let you be happy.

Liz: As much as I hate to say it

It hit me hard that we hadn’t really talked since long before prom. Our whole friendship had come to a standstill the second Peter showed the slightest interest in me.

Me: Is that why we stopped being friends? Because I swooped in on peter?

Liz: I guess… I never really put an exact date to when things started falling apart. I felt like we were in a competition and I was so jealous that you won.

Peter was getting blood drawn by a female nurse and I was almost ready to get up and draw his blood myself. If I had to watch one of my closest friends hug him and kiss him and cuddle him and run their hands through his hair, it’d kill me. Or worse, I’d kill them. I had a new level of appreciation for Liz’s self-control. But at the same time, she was a close friend and I had hurt her so much without knowing. I didn’t know what to do to make it better.

Me: I…

Me: I don’t know how to fix this.

Liz: I don’t think you can. Even if you tried what would happen? You break up with peter and I dive in and try to pretend I’m not a rebound? Even when he’s mad at you I know he still loves you. When we were at his apartment the other day and you turned to get back in the car, the look he gave you was how I knew we could never work. It was a mix of fear and shock and gratitude but mostly, it was a look of pure love and appreciation. He loves you so much and it kills me.

Me: …I didn’t see him look back at me. I thought he hated me.

Me: Sorry I know this isn’t about me but that’s been killing me since last night

Liz: Nothing you do could make that boy hate you

Liz: And that’s something I have to learn to live with

That helped, honestly. I felt a little more secure, knowing that Peter probably didn’t want me to leave right now.

Me: Liz I’m so sorry

Me: I feel awful

Me: You’re my friend and I hurt you so much

Liz: This was never supposed to be between you and I. I was angry that my feelings weren’t reciprocated and my hate spread to you.

I forgave her. Immediately. It made sense. I couldn’t claim that I would’ve been better.

Me: Liz it’s okay

Me: I get it

Liz: You did nothing wrong. You respected the girl code and you even asked my permission before dating him

Liz: I should be the one apologizing

But I was the idiot. I was the one who ignored the way she avoided my questions and I was the one who didn’t put two and two together. It was clear as day, in hindsight. Lingering looks, little things she said…

Me: I mean I probably should’ve put it together

Me: I knew something was wrong

That was true. I knew something was wrong, the way she started giving me the cold shoulder. I’d just always assumed that it was about her dad.

Me: But I didn’t ever connect it to peter

Me: I just figured you’d put everything behind you and didn’t think twice about it

Liz: I almost wish that was the case

I realized my breathing was fast and shallow. I was almost hyperventilating. My stomach was turning and my hands were practically vibrating. I felt so horrible.

Me: Jesus I feel terrible about this

Me: You hid that from me the whole time?

Me: For like 3 months you just…didn’t say anything?

Me: That would kill me. He refused to look at me yesterday and it almost killed me I can’t imagine…

Me: God I’m so sorry

Liz: I knew there was nothing I could do about it so I just became this rude ugly person

Me: I’m glad you did say something

Me: Because I missed you

God, I missed her. I missed our late night study sessions. I missed her “morale boosting” rebellious activities before decathlon events. I missed eating chips under the table in class with her. I missed talking to her for hours about absolutely nothing of importance. I had missed that so much in the last few months, and I just thought it was all over her dad.

Liz: …yeah me too

Me: I assume you don’t want me to tell Peter?

I hoped she didn’t want him to know. I didn’t know how that would affect him, and us.

Liz: Maybe it’s for the best

Liz: Especially since he just woke up

Thank goodness.

Me: Yeah okay

Liz: That would be a lot to throw at him while he’s in the hospital.

I looked up, realizing that most of the people in the room had cleared out.

Me: Yeah

Me: Speaking of which, he’s done his testing so I’m gonna go talk to him

Me: I’ll talk to you later Liz

Me: Thanks for telling me everything

Liz: Ok let me know how he is

Me: Yeah I’ll message the group chat if anything changes

Liz: And you’re welcome. I’m tired of the pain coming out and hurting everyone else. It was nice to get it out

“I’ve got to go repair the damage to your sui- the tech. I’ll talk to you later. Listen to the doctors, kid.”

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

Peter turned to me. I put my phone back in my purse.

“You should go sleep,” Peter told me, reaching out and pushing some hair away from my face. “You look exhausted.”

I didn’t say anything. He was right, I was exhausted. All the anxiety I’d held over Peter was slowly draining out of me, leaving me super sleepy.

“Did I tell you you’re beautiful?”

I scoffed. I was wearing an oversized sweater and leggings I’d had on for a good 24 hours. My hair was up in a messy bun, but it wasn’t the cute, Instagram-worthy type of messy bun. It was an I-haven’t-slept-in-four-or-five-days bun.

“You’re a liar.”

“No, I’m not.” He hesitated. “Go to bed. I’m okay.”

I hesitated, but my eyes were practically drifting shut already. “Fine.”

He called in someone who worked there who wasn’t a nurse, and she took me to the room that Mr. Stark had set up for me. There was a clean t-shirt and sweatpants on the bed.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, walking out.

I closed the door and changed, pulled my phone charger out of my purse and plugged in, then laid down. I ended up staring at a window on the far wall, wishing I knew if it locked.

Great. I was finally sleepy and relaxed, and there was a window in the corner that made me feel unsafe. I knew, logically, that it had to lock. This was the Avengers base. Tony Stark wouldn’t leave a window unlockable like that.

I sighed, rolling over and picking up my phone. I asked Peter if he was allowed to come stay in my room for the night, and within a few minutes, he was knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door slowly, the way you do when trying not to wake somebody, then closed it behind him.

“Hey, sorry, can you just check and make sure that window’s locked?”

He laughed. “MJ, it doesn’t open. It’s bulletproof.”

I let out a heavy breath, laughing. He crawled into bed next to me, planted a kiss on my temple as he laid down next to me.

“Please, don’t ever scare me like that again,” I pleaded. “Just-just-”

“I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

He slipped his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. The bandages around his wrists were gone. There weren’t even any cuts or anything on them. Jesus Christ.

Peter noticed me staring at his wrist. “Oh, um, the bandages were to stop my wrists from spraining, or something like that.”

I figured I must’ve imagined the blood on them (even though I knew I hadn’t) and let my head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m so glad you didn’t want me to leave,” I told him.

“What? Why would I want that?”

I frowned, looking up at him. “You- you looked like you hated me yesterday. I mean, Liz said that you looked back at me, but-”

He put his hands on my waist and twisted me around, so I had to face him properly, then kissed me, hard. I ran my fingers through his hair, revelling in the fact that I actually had the privilege of getting to touch him and kiss him and lay him like this. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me right up against his body, close enough that I could feel his abs against me.

“I couldn’t hate you if I tried, MJ,” he mumbled as he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.

I brushed some of his curls away from his forehead. “Thank god, because I think that might kill me.”

He smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He pulled at my hair tie, slowly pulling out my bun.

“Oh, come on,” I whined. “My hair is so messy right now.”

“Yeah, I wanna play with it.”

I rolled my eyes, pushing his hand away and taking the hair tie out myself. My hair fell on the pillow and over my shoulders, my scalp aching from my hair being up all day.

He grinned, running his fingers through my hair.

I kinda wanted to fall asleep like this every night for the rest of my life.

He started to give me a bit of a scalp massage, and I let my eyes drift shut, slowly falling into a deep sleep.

**July 18 th **

I didn’t wake up until late in the morning. Peter was already awake, going through his phone with one hand, his other hand playing mindlessly with my hair.

“How long have you been awake?” I asked, stretching out my arms.

He smiled the second he heard my voice, before he even looked at me.

“A couple hours.” He showed me the time on his phone screen before he put his phone down.

I groaned, rolling over and checking my phone. I had a couple texts from my mom that weren’t super important, a few memes from friends, stuff like that. I put my phone back down. I didn’t really want to focus on any of that. I had Peter back. I finally had Peter back and I’d been too tired and emotional and distracted by Liz’s confession to fully take it in last night.

“Do you have to stay here another night?” I asked Peter.

“Mr. Stark said he wants me at the base until he’s absolutely sure I’m okay. Which I am, but he won’t listen to me.”

“I’m staying with you today,” I said. “You don’t get a choice.”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I took a moment to just admire him. Fluffy, curly hair. Big brown eyes that sparkled when he smiled. Cheekbones that glowed (without makeup?? How??).

“What are you thinking about? You’re just, like, staring at me.”

“You’re pretty.”

He laughed, flipping imaginary hair. “Why, thank you.” He leaned over and sort of rolled on top of me to kiss me.

“Peter, I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“Whatever.”

He kissed me again, a hand on my shoulder, pinning me to the bed.

For a brief moment, I wondered if one day we’d be acting like this in our own apartment. All grown up and on our own and still this in love. I hoped so.

I put a hand on his chest and pushed him off, not-so-gracefully rolling on top of him and pinning him down, my hair falling in a curtain around us. I looked at him for a moment. Shafts of light hitting his face from in between my curls, lighting up his eyes and his smile.

“You’re the most beautiful person in the world,” I told him, smiling.

“Nope, sorry, that’s you,” he shot back, grinning and tucking some hair behind my ear.

“That’s impossible, because you’re definitely more beautiful than I am.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? Because I think you’re way prettier than me.” He put his hands on my waist and effortlessly lifted me off of him. I squeaked, then laughed. “See? Even your laugh is pretty.”

“Yeah, but have you heard yours?”

“Oh, shut up.”

He sat up so he could kiss me again, and again, and again. I didn’t think and put a hand on his ribs. He winced.

“Did I- oh, that’s where- Peter, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I killed the mood, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine, love, I’m fine.”

It didn’t really put me at ease. He tended to pretend things hurt less than they did.

“Can…can I see the-the stab wound?”

His face dropped. “You’re not going to like it. It won’t make you feel better.”

“Is that a no?”

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and then lifted up his shirt.

There was a large bandage covering his lower ribs and halfway down his abs. It was soaked almost to the corners in dark red blood.

“Peter…”

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting…”

He dropped his shirt, letting it cover the wound again. “I’m okay, though. Everything’s fine.”

“But-but you’re- you keep getting hurt. Everything isn’t fine.”

“MJ, please don’t freak out about this.”

I looked him in the eyes. “If I came over as injured as you do sometimes, how would you handle it?”

I watched for his response. His eyes dropped. “Not well, probably.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So, you see why it freaks me out that every single week I’m talking to Mr. Stark about your new injuries?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’m sorry, MJ, it’s kind of just an…occupational hazard.”

“I’m not asking you to quit the internship or anything, babe. Maybe don’t go out like that again, because that terrified me. I thought you were going to die or something. But I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not May.”

“I have the most understanding girlfriend in the universe, don’t I?”

“I try.”

He kissed my forehead, then got out of bed. “I’m gonna go check in with the doctor, and then we can do something.”

I watched him leave the room, then realized the only change of clothes I had was yesterday’s outfit.

Well, I guess today was going to be one big walk of shame.

I changed back into my clothes, ran out to my car and got my emergency “I crashed somewhere else last night” kit, which had some basic toiletries in it. I came back into the base and brushed my teeth, combed my hair, cleaned the glasses that I kept in the bottom of my purse, and kinda just killed time until Peter’s check-up was over. I caught up on texts and notifications in that time, and when Peter came back, he was wearing a shirt with a math joke and a pair of jeans, as opposed to the plain white shirt and grey sweatpants he wore to bed.

“So, you know how I’m not allowed to leave the base?”

I frowned. “Yeah, why?”

He smiled sheepishly, walking over to where I was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Would you mind doing a donut run?”

“Peter, are you serious? We’re an hour away from Queens.”

“Pleeeeeeeease?”

“An hour away from Queens. You won’t get your donuts for two hours, Peter.”

He sat down next to me, one hand on my hip, one hand on my cheek. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t even get to drive with you. I just gotta go all the way back to Queens on my own.”

“I’ll stay on the phone with you,” he bargained. “And I’ll give you a kiss for the road.”

I rolled my eyes, giving in. “It better be one hell of a kiss.”

He grinned, pulling me in and kissing me and pushing me back onto the bed. I giggled against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him on top of me. After a couple minutes, he moved on to kissing my neck instead.

“Peter!” I yelped.

“You asked for ‘one hell of a kiss’, MJ.”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask for a hickey.”

He laughed, planting one last kiss on my lips and getting off of me.

“Was that sufficient?” he asked. “Are you gonna go get me donuts?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll see you later.” I picked up my purse and got up, walking out of the room.

“I love you, you’re my dream girl!” he called after me.

I stopped, just outside the doorway, dropping my head and smiling.

“You’re an idiot,” I laughed. “I love you, too.”

I walked out to my car, breaking into a run once it was within my sight. The second I got in, I connected my phone to the Bluetooth thing and immediately called Peter.

We talked my whole way into town to get the donuts, and the whole way back to the base.

When I got back, he ran out to my car and hugged me really tight, burying his face in my neck and hair.

“I missed you.”

“You’re the one who sent me into town,” I laughed. “And we talked the whole time.”

“Let me be sappy, I’ve barely seen you all week because I was being an idiot.”

“At least you can recognize that it was a result of your own idiocy,” I teased, pulling away from the hug and kissing his cheek. “Can we go in and eat donuts now?”

“Of course.”

I got the box of donuts and followed him inside. I got a really great photo of him eating said donuts. The drive was completely worth it, just for the photo.

We ate and everything and eventually sat down outside, chatting and holding hands and having a good time. I realized almost too late that the sun was setting, which meant good lighting, which meant I could take a cute photo of the two of us. I pulled out my phone and turned on the camera, and Peter played along for a second, and then quickly leaned in and kissed my neck as I took the photo. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re the worst.”

“Sorry, it’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

“It’s your fault you ruined the picture, though,” I said, watching as a cloud passed over the sun, ruining the good lighting.

Peter shrugged. “Worth it.”

I looked at the time. “I should go home. I gotta walk Murphy and stuff.”

Peter stuck his bottom lip out, pouting and giving me puppy-dog eyes.

“Do you want me to come back tomorrow?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I smiled. “Okay. I suppose I can.”

He grinned. “I love you so freaking much.”

“I love you, too, loser.”

I kissed him, then grabbed my purse and got up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told him.

“I’ll miss you.”

I laughed. “You’re such a loser. I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Okay. I’ll just be in bed…staring at my phone…waiting.”

I rolled my eyes as I walked out to my car.

I smiled the whole drive home. I had gone the whole day without worrying about Cindy. I’d slept last night. And all of that was because of Peter.

**July 20 th **

I drove back upstate to the base to see Peter for the third day in a row. I felt like I was becoming one of those girls who only ever hangs out with their boyfriend, but he and I had hung out nonstop before we started dating, and it was a welcome distraction from worrying incessantly about Cindy.

We talked to Tony (because he started insisting that I just call him Tony) and ate omelets (side note: Tony Stark made really good omelets) and managed to convince him to let Peter go home. When I checked on Peter’s stab wound, they had taken the bandage off, and it looked like it was a week old. It had scabbed and almost started to scar at the edges. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Peter had a healing power or something.

I actually kind of thought that Peter did have something like that he was hiding from me. The way he and Tony had been talking in almost-code around me, the way he made sure I didn’t know a whole lot about the internship, the way he was healing so quickly from the stab wound…it didn’t add up. Plus, at homecoming last year, he’d disappeared, and then an hour later we heard the news about Liz’s dad. Obviously, I couldn’t just jump to the conclusion that Peter was Spider-Man, but I had some suspicions.

I figured I wouldn’t say anything about it to him, considering I didn’t have a whole lot of evidence and I didn’t want to make him tell me if he wasn’t supposed to. If Tony knew and didn’t want him to say, then I didn’t want to put him in a tough position. Besides, to me it didn’t matter. Whether or not he was Spider-Man, I loved him. I worried about him a lot, and I might worry more if I knew he was Spider-Man, but it wouldn’t change anything. He was Peter. That’s all that mattered.

So, I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t say anything about how fast he was healing. I stopped myself from asking prying questions about the internship.

We just sat and ate and talked for a while. It was nice. I stayed kinda quiet, turning everything over in my head. Those suspicions had been hanging around in my brain for a while, but being here with Peter and Tony started to turn them into a cohesive theory.

I had a moment of doubt. I thought that I was reading too far into things. I did have a habit of overthinking. It made sense that I would overthink to this point. But it started to make way too much sense. I knew that Ned knew something that I didn’t. I knew that Peter was hiding things about his internship. I knew that he was healing way too quickly and that he tried to hide this unnatural strength he had. He was muscular, sure, but I was 130 pounds and he could pick me up without a hitch in his breath or tensing his arms or anything. None of it added up to Peter Parker being your average teenage boy. He had to be powered. Maybe he wasn’t Spider-Man, per se, but there was still something off.

Tony gave Peter some papers to sign, basically signing the bills that Tony was paying. Peter leaned over the desk to sign and initial and everything, and I couldn’t help but take a picture. His hair was so fluffy and soft and for a moment, I had to almost sit on my hands to stop myself from playing with his hair while he was trying to focus.

His phone lit up when I posted the photo on Instagram. He read the caption then typed something back without looking up at me. I saw his comment pop up on my phone screen.

“I don’t mind if you do.”

I shifted on the couch so I was kneeling behind him, occupying what was left of the space between him and the back of the couch, and starting playing with his hair. I tried to French braid it, but it was too short and all unravelled before I got to the crown of his head.

“You’re making it hard to focus on this,” Peter complained, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

“You told me I could play with your hair,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not telling you to stop. It’s pretty relaxing.”

I laughed, leaning over his shoulder and kissing him on the cheek. He turned his head and kissed me on the lips.

“You should go back to going through those papers,” I told him, dropping my face onto his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his midsection.

“Well, now I don’t want to.”

“You really should, or else Tony won’t let me come back here.”

Peter groaned, letting his head fall back. “Nah, he loves you. He thinks you’re way too good for me.”

I laughed. “Really?”

“Really. Okay, I’ll finish signing the papers.”

He leaned forward and picked the pen up again. I buried my face in his neck and closed my eyes.

A few minutes passed, and Peter finally put his pen down and leaned all the way back, squishing me against the back of the couch.

“I’m done.”

“So…?”

“I gotta stick around for the last few test results, but we can go hang out on the docks for a while.”

I grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

Peter ran the papers over to Tony and then we walked out to the lake. We sat down on the docks, right where we sat a couple months ago when we told each other how we felt. Except this time, I had my head on his shoulder, and I was a lot happier.

“Do you think they’ll ever find Cindy?” I asked quietly.

Peter sighed. “I don’t know, MJ. I hope so.”

“You won’t go out looking for her again, right?”

He hesitated.

“Peter, you got stabbed.”

“I know. _I know._ It just sucks that she went missing on Friday and we still haven’t heard anything. And-and I feel like I should be doing something but everyone’s telling me I shouldn’t, but how am I supposed to live with myself if I know I can do something and I don’t?”

“You’ll be alive. That’s the first step to living with yourself, Peter. Stay alive.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Okay. I won’t go out looking for her again.”

“Thank you.” I took my head off his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to be the controlling girlfriend who stops you from doing things-”

“You seem to know what’s better for me than I do.”

I chuckled. “I guess.” There was a long silence. “Actually, there was a point where I messaged Tony about how worried I was about you, and he said there was no point in telling you to stop because you’d find another way.”

Peter smirked to himself. “Yeah, I have a bit of a track record.”

“Sounds like you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not that stubborn, MJ.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

He grinned. “You’re the stubborn one and you know it.”

“Oh, I didn’t say you’re more stubborn than me. I just said that you’re stubborn.”

“You might be onto something, but-”

“Are you gonna be too stubborn to admit that you’re stubborn? Because that just proves my point.”

He dropped his head forward. “There’s no way for me to win. It’s a catch twenty-two. If I admit I’m stubborn, I’m not too stubborn to admit it. But if I disagree, I’m too stubborn.”

“It’s almost like you have a girlfriend who’s smart enough to back you into a corner.”

He smiled, pushing me playfully.

“Hey! I don’t want to fall into the lake, you jerk!” I laughed, pushing him back.

We goofed off for a while, giggling and pushing each other around and joking with each other. I felt so relaxed with him, even when I was stressed about a million other things. Whenever I was alone, all I could think about was Cindy. I’d even started to have nightmares about what she could be going through. Medieval torture, human trafficking, underground experiments. But Peter had this magic touch that put it all out of my mind. Not all the time, but enough to keep me sane.

After a couple hours of acting like idiots, he packed up a few belongings and we drove back to Queens, singing obnoxiously to upbeat music the whole time.

**July 21 st **

So, it was Jessie’s birthday, and I was throwing a party for her on the patio of my apartment building. I spent a good portion of the day booking the patio and the pool, then decorating to hell and back. There were streamers, balloons, string lights, the whole nine yards.

The party started at 7, but of course there were a few fashionably late friends.

I kinda counted on the squad to supply a cake, and they miraculously came through. Or should I say, Harry came through, waltzing in 20 minutes late with a three-tier chocolate cake.

“Oh my god, Harry, that thing’s huge!”

He shrugged. “It’s only three tiers.” He put it down on the snacks table. “I doubt it’ll feed everybody.”

“Dude, that’s why you get one of those supermarket rectangular cakes and chop the pieces up real small. Besides, this party is, like, 50 people.”

“Yeah, exactly. Hence the big cake.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, dude. We’ll see if we can do cake at 8.”

“Ooh, somebody’s gotta make sure Jessie stays sober until then.”

“Ask Ned to. He’ll be following her around like a puppy, anyways.”

Harry nodded and headed off. I saw Peter walk in through the lobby of the complex. I ran up to him.

“Hey, babe!”

“Hi,” he laughed, giving me a quick kiss. “Where’s the birthday girl?”

“Uh, over there with Ned and Harry.”

He put an arm around my waist and we headed over.

Jessie was wearing a paper crown and this big faux fur coat that I remember buying at a thrift store with her before she went to Ireland.

“Hey, Jess! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, Peter!”

She did this happy little hop before hugging him. I figured she’d already had a drink. I looked over at Ned, who was holding a half-empty Corona.

“You had to confiscate that, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Big time.”

Peter put his arm back around me and led me over to the one tree. I realized that it was the same tree we’d had dinner under a couple months ago. He sat down, so I followed suit.

“So, I know it’s short notice, but Mr. Stark is throwing another gala thing tomorrow, and I know you said you wanted to just spend our one month anniversary watching a movie or something, but it’ll be really fun, and I even asked him to put _Chasing Cars_ on the playlist.”

I laughed. “How could I say no to that?”

“Really?” His eyes got all big and he had the start of a smile on his lips.

“Oh, come on, Peter. All I care about is actually spending time with you. Plus, maybe I’ll be able to convince Tony to send me more embarrassing pictures of you.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna ignore that last part. I love you. I’ll be over at five tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, leaning over to kiss him.

Just before we actually got to kiss, Jessie ran over.

“You should come over to the dance floor! I queued up some good music.”

I looked at Peter. He seemed down for it, so we got up and headed over.

Just as we got on the dance floor, _6am_ by Fitz and the Tantrums came on. Jessie, Ned, Harry, Miles, Liz, Peter and I formed a small circle and started dancing like idiots. None of us were trying to be good at dancing, we were just having fun. It was nice.  

It was actually kind of a dreamy moment. Like something from a coming-of-age movie. Lights, streamers, balloons, loud music, alcohol, and a diverse yet tightly-knit group of friends. It was really fun, too. We got to shout the lyrics and jump up and down like we all used to at middle school dances and it was just a group of friends enjoying each other’s company.

Halfway through the song, Miles broke away and went and sat by the pool.

Peter and I shared a look, and then I went after him.

“Miles.”

He looked up. “Hey, Jones.”

“Thinking about Cindy?” I asked, sitting down next to him with my legs crossed.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“I’ve known you since forever, Morales.”

He paused, staring at the water. “I miss her.”

“Yeah, I wish she were here tonight. I think that’s part of why Jessie wanted to bring alcohol, too. It’s not the same without Cindy.”

Miles sighed. His head was lowered, his shoulders forward, his back slouched. Like he was starting to collapse in on himself. “It feels wrong to have fun without her. She could be- she could be-”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but I knew what he meant. “She’s not gone, Miles. We’ll get her back. And when we do, she’s gonna yell at you for not celebrating Jessie’s birthday as much as humanly possible.”

Miles chuckled. It was silent, but I saw the small smile and the shake of his shoulders.

“Seriously, Miles. I know it sucks. Royally. But if Cindy could, she’d tell us not to put our lives on hold.”

He nodded. “How are you always right, Jones?”

I shrugged. “Ask my GPA.” I stood up, offering him a hand. “Let’s get back on that dance floor.”

He took my hand and stood up, walking with me back to the dance floor.

We spent a good half hour dancing again before Harry stopped us and pulled out a pack of candles. We all headed over to the cake, lit some candles, and made Jessie blow them out.

“What’d you wish for, Jess?” Miles asked. I smacked his arm.

“You can’t ask her that,” I said, “because if she answers then it won’t come true.”

“Plus,” Ned added, “we know who she wished for.”

There was a hush that fell over the group. The air was suddenly thick and uncomfortable.

“Should we, um, cut the cake?” Harry suggested. “Jessie, cut the cake.”

Jessie nodded, picking up the cake knife. Her hand was shaking, but she still did it. She cut up the cake, and slowly but surely everybody got a piece, and then the dancing died down and everyone was milling around, eating cake and talking.

“I’m scared, MJ,” Jessie told me, once everyone had cake and it was just the two of us. “It’s been a week.”

“Yeah, I’m scared, too.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

Oh, I had a million terrifying ideas. Torture. Rape. Trafficking. Experimentation. Murder. Various combinations of those few examples.

“I don’t know, Jess. Don’t dwell on it.”

Jessie sighed. “I miss her. A lot. I miss weird things, too. Like the memes she’d make about us, or the sly, dirty comments. I miss spending time with her.”

“Me too. I miss our doggy playdates. And baking with her.”

“She’s fun to bake with. You always end up with flour all over you and batter under your nails, but it’s fun.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence as we finished the last couple bites of cake.

“Here, I’ll take your plate. You want a Coke or something?”

“Sure.”

Wow. Jessie didn’t refuse it and take alcohol instead. Wild.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

I took her plate and went to throw both of ours out.

“Well, hel-lo.”

I turned to see a very drunk sophomore from Midtown. I rolled my eyes, tossing the paper plates in the trash and turning to find a can of Coke.

“What, no smile?”

“Sorry, bro, I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, I can get you in the mood,” he slurred, coming up way too close behind me.

I pushed him back. “You might be very nice when you’re sober, so I don’t want to be too rude, but please leave me alone.”

“Come on, girl, loosen up. Have a beer. Dance with me.”

I sighed. Why wouldn’t he just take no for an answer? “Listen, I’m just trying to get a Coke for my friend and enjoy the night.” I started to push past him, but he grabbed my shoulder. Why were creepy guys always grabbing my shoulders? Come on, man.

“Maybe you’d enjoy the night more if you brought me home.”

Wow. He’d crossed the line from creepy and pushy to creepy and sexual real fast.

“I don’t think so, dude. Enjoy your night.”

I went to move again, and he grabbed my wrist. “Listen. You’re hot, I’m hot, and the night is young. Why not give me a chance?”

“Because I’m not interested in your sweaty, sophomore ass.”

“Hey! I’m going into junior year. Although, I do like you talking about my ass.”

God, could this guy get any worse?

“Okay, you know what? I’m not playing this game with you. Let go.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll kick you out. I’m the one throwing this party.”

“You’ll throw me out? You and what army?”

I hesitated, and in that split second, Peter slid between me and the dude.

“Hey, man, I’d appreciate it if you got your paws off my girlfriend.”

Now, this dude was a good six inches taller than Peter, and he did not look intimidated at all.

“Oh, that’s your girlfriend, now, is it?”

On the bright side, he’d let go of my wrist. I put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Babe, you don’t have to do this. I can handle myself.”

Peter looked at me, then back at the dude. “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”

Jesus Christ, one day Peter was going to get himself hurt, standing up for me with guys like this. First Senator Dickhead or Dewsbury or whatever, and now Sweaty Sophomore.

He looked angry for a few seconds, and I worried about what he was going to do, and then he just huffed, then turned and walked away.

Peter turned around, and I thought he was going to ask me if I was okay or something, but he kissed me, hard and sudden. I almost dropped the Coke I was holding. I relaxed into it for a moment, then realized I was really keeping Jessie waiting, and pulled away.

“Sorry, I-I, uh, I gotta- Jessie’s waiting for me.” Wow. Peter had actually taken away my ability to form full sentences.

He pouted, but let me go. I smiled and waved as I walked away from him.

I realized that he’d probably kissed me out of pure jealousy. I shrugged it off. I would’ve done the same thing.

I handed Jessie her Coke and sat back down next to her.

“Thanks, MJ.”

“No prob.”

There was a long silence as she cracked open the top and took a sip. After a moment, she started giggling, then turned to me and said, “I’m cracking open a cold one with the boys.”

I laughed, and couldn’t stop laughing, and neither could Jessie. It took us a good couple minutes to reel it in, and by then our chests hurt from a lack of oxygen and we were still struggling not to smile.

“So, what was going on with that really tall dude over there?” Jessie asked, changing the topic.

“Oh, nothing.”

She looked at me. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was talking to Sophomore MJ. Do you mind not being so mysterious?”

I laughed. “Damn, okay. He was just hitting on me incessantly.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And Peter came to the rescue.”

I shrugged. “I mean, I hate when the only reason a guy will back off is because you’re, like, some other guy’s property or something, but he was getting touchy and pushy and freaking me out.”

“And so that big dramatic kiss…”

“That’s on Peter,” I said defensively. “I figured he was just gonna ask me if I was okay or something. I wasn’t expecting him to…” My voice trailed off. I realized I was chewing on my tongue. I really had to work on that tell.

 Jessie smirked. “I never thought I’d see the day Michelle Jones was so whipped that-”

“Shut up,” I whined. “I don’t like having emotions. You don’t need to rub ‘em in.”

She laughed. “You love it.”

I couldn’t help myself. I smiled. “I know. He’s the best. He’s taking me to a Stark Gala tomorrow for our anniversary.”

“Aw, really? Wow, Ned and I didn’t really do anything for our one month.”

“Yeah, I figured we wouldn’t since a month isn’t, like, a huge milestone, but since the gala just kind of happened to fall on our anniversary-”

“What do you bet that Mr. Stark found out your anniversary and planned it on purpose?”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised. At the gala we went to before we started dating, he pushed us together on the dance floor so we were, um, pressed up against each other, and said, ‘Don’t leave room for Jesus.’”

Jessie laughed. “I don’t know what’s better about that story, the fact that Tony freaking Stark pushed you and Peter together like that, or the fact that you’re blushing right now.”

“What? I’m not-”

“You totally are, Jones.”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but Ned screamed, “Pool time!” from across the patio. I turned just in time to see him rip off his shirt and run at full force for the pool, canonballing in. There was a huge splash, and after that, a few more people joined in.

Jessie was laughing, standing up and starting to take off layers. “I can’t believe I’m the chick who got stuck with him.”

“Yeah, whatever, go join him.”

She took off her crown, then jacket, then dress, and jumped into the pool. She had this really cute floral print bikini on underneath. It was a good look. Peter came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

“So, I have my trunks with me.”

I twisted my neck to look up at him. “Do you wanna hop in?”

“Can I run up to your apartment, so I can change? I kinda dropped my stuff off there earlier.” He had this small sheepish smile on.

“Yeah, okay. You want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, it’s alright. Get in.” He headed off and into the building to change.

I got up took off the flannel I was wearing over my t-shirt. Liz approached me. 

“Hey,” she said, “I just felt like I owe you an apology for, uh, dumping everything on you the other day. I’m-I’m trying really hard to get over…everything, and I just wanted to know if you’re still cool with me hanging out at these things.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Like, with Peter.”

I shrugged. “Liz, I’m not going to stop you from hanging out with Peter just because you’re still getting over him. He’s a friend. It’s fine. I trust both of you.”

Liz smiled, letting out a breath of relief. Her shoulders visibly relaxed. “Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s fine. You wanna get in the pool with me?”

She looked over at the pool. Miles and Harry were sitting on the side, feet in the water. Ned and Jess were splashing each other. A few other kids were playing Keep Away with a beach ball.

“Why not?”

I took off my shirt and shorts, and she took off her dress, then we jumped into the pool.

“Ooh, I like the bikini, Liz!”

“Oh, thanks. I didn’t really think that blue was my colour.”

“It is absolutely your colour,” I told her, pulling my hair up.

“MJ!”

I turned to see Miles and Harry waving me over. I waded through the water to them.

“What’s up?”

“We need a more objective opinion. Who would win in a fight, Luke Cage or Jessica Jones?” Harry asked.

I scoffed. “Luke Cage. All he’d have to do is shoot Jessica Jones.”

“See! I told you so!” Miles said, high-fiving me. “It’s called _black excellence_ , look it up, Osborn.”

I laughed. “Sorry, Harry. I think you just like Jessica Jones because she’s cute.”

“Ooh, or maybe he’s associating the Jones name with you. I mean, you’d kick his sorry ass any day,” Miles goaded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Would you like to put that theory to the test, Jones?” Harry asked.

I shrugged. “I’ve beat you in laser tag, on test scores, why not get in the ring?”

I only teased him about it because I knew it’d never happen.

“Yeah, whatever, kid.”

There was a splash behind me, and then two arms wrapped around my waist. I tensed for a second before I realized it was Peter.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey.”

I tilted my head back so I could kiss him without turning around.

“What’re you guys talking about?”

“Here, maybe Peter will have a different opinion on this-”

The Luke Cage vs. Jessica Jones debate started up again, and then someone suggested that Iron Fist would beat both of them, and the entire pool laughed them out. The kid literally got up and left, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the night.

We swam around and splashing into the wee hours of the morning, and then most people kinda just headed out without saying much. Miles, Harry, Liz, Ned, Jessie, and Peter all stayed to help me clean up. When we got out of the pool, I used my shirt to dry off (thanks to the asshole who stole my towel and left it soaked in vodka by the pool) and just threw on my flannel over my bikini top and pulled on my shorts. I didn’t bother buttoning it up since I knew I’d just shower and change when I got back upstairs.

I caught Peter staring at me while we were cleaning up. I threw a balloon at him. He threw one back. Neither balloon made it to us, because, you know, balloons.

“Peter, stop staring at MJ’s bikini top. MJ, stop encouraging him. Thanks,” Jessie said.

I laughed. Peter blushed. He mouthed “sorry” to me from across the patio. I shook my head and smiled, tying my garbage bag and walking off to go throw it in the dumpster behind the patio.

We finished cleaning up and putting things away and taking leftover snacks and drinks up to my apartment. Everyone left before Peter, who still had to change and pack up his stuff.

“So, um, Ned and I were talking about some stuff,” he said nervously, “and he told me that you thought I was going to break up with you. You know, after that fight, when I got stabbed, and-”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”

He pulled on his red jacket and then stopped and looked at me.

“Why?”

I shrugged, kinda deflecting. “The way you talked to me and wouldn’t look at me when Liz and I showed up at your building, I thought you hated me. I just figured you-”

“You actually thought that?”

“Peter, I said that to you.”

“I didn’t think you actually meant it…You genuinely thought I didn’t love you?”

I nodded.

“MJ, you know now that I love you, right?”

I hesitated. I thought he did. He acted like it. But there was always nagging doubt at the back of my head. I never thought that anybody loved me. That was just something I was used to.

“MJ. You know I love you, right?” he asked again, with a little more emphasis.

“I don’t know, Peter. I try not to think about it.”

He crossed the room, sliding his hands under my flannel and putting them on my bare waist. “You need to know that I love you more than I can put into words.”

“Do you know how much I love you?” I countered, watching his reaction.

He didn’t falter. “I know you love me. You say it everyday. That’s all I need.”

“Really?”

“I know you. You wouldn’t say it if you didn’t absolutely mean it.”

I stared at him. He was dead serious. “Peter, it’s not your fault that I’m emotionally unavailable to the point where I can’t even really accept anybody else’s love or affection.”

“It’s my fault that you thought I hated you.” He closed his eyes, and took in a breath. “God, I can’t think of a single thing you could do to make me hate you.”

“Peter, you’re not gonna fix all of my weird internalized issues in one night.”

“I know. It sucks, though. I wish I knew how to make you feel what I feel.”

“And what do you feel?”

He hesitated, frowning. He was searching for the words. “It’s- it’s like unconditional acceptance. Like, I knew when I got hurt that even though I had done exactly what you didn’t want me to do and gotten hurt doing it, you weren’t going to be mad or anything. I knew you’d be there for me and hold my hand and keep me company. I was right, too.”

“So, you trust me?”

He paused, again. “It’s different, though. Because I trust you, yeah, but this is different. I just- I don’t know how to explain it. I just know you want to see me and talk to me as much as I want to see you and talk to you.”

I almost laughed. “I can’t imagine that. People actually wanting to spend all of their time with me.”

He moved one hand from my waist to my cheek. “You should start to get used to the idea of that, because that’s how I’ve felt about you for months.”

I think I melted inside. “Okay, I get it. I just gotta work on the actually feeling it part.”

“You know I don’t hate you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know I love you a whole hell of a lot?”

“I guess.”

“And you know I’m not gonna leave you over one fight?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled. “Good.” He pulled me closer and kissed me.

I tried to feel like he loved me. I really did. He acted like it, he said it, he showed it every single day. For some reason, I just didn’t think that he could. Because, why me, right? Liz was right there, gorgeous and smart and perfect, and he’d chosen me instead. I couldn’t figure out what he saw in me that he didn’t see in her.

“You should probably head home,” I told him.

“Are you kicking me out?” he teased.

“No, I don’t want you to go. But it’s late and I’m so tired and if you stay any longer I’m gonna force you to stay the night.”

He grinned. “That might have its perks.”

I laughed. “You’re an idiot. Just go home so May doesn’t get mad at me for stealing you from her.”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “Yeah, but isn’t it worth it?”

I couldn’t resist kissing him again. I wrapped both my arms around his neck, keeping him stuck to me. He didn’t seem to hate it by any means. He kinda started to back me up into the wall, which just wasn’t going to end up with him going home, so I pulled away.

“See, this is what I meant when I said that I’d force you to stay over.”

“But I want to. You don’t have to force me to do anything, MJ.” He tried to smile suggestively, but it was just incredibly cute.

I rolled my eyes. “Go home, Peter.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to get all dressed up for the gala tomorrow and I’m not going to be able to do that if you’re around.”

“Why not?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’ll just want to make out with you the whole time and I’ll end up going to the gala in my pajamas.” I looked back at him and he was smiling. “Plus, I don’t have a suit for you to wear.”

He laughed. “Okay, I’ll go home.”

He didn’t move. He still had me pinned to the wall.

“Peter,” I said softly.

“I don’t know. I don’t wanna leave you if you don’t know how much I love you.”

I kissed his cheek. “I get it, babe. Just go home.”

“I’m calling you when I get home,” he bargained.

“I’d love that. Although, I have to shower and stuff.”

“Put your phone on speaker.”

I laughed. “I’ll just shower super fast and I’ll be done by the time you get home.”

He grinned. “Sounds good.” He kissed me again, soft and lingering. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He let go, picked up his backpack, and left, closing the front door quietly, since my mom was asleep in her room.

I tied up my hair and hopped in the shower, washing the chlorine off of my body in record time. I got out, dried off, and put on a t-shirt and a pair of Peter’s sweatpants. I’d started sleeping in his clothes at some point, and I think they made me sleep better.

I grabbed my phone just in time for Peter to call me, I picked up.

“Showered in record time.”

“I’m proud of you. Are you in bed?”

“Nah, I’m filling up Murphy’s water bowl right now.”

“Hypothetically, if we got married, would our dogs be step-siblings?”

I laughed. “Okay, I like the way you think at three in the morning.”

“Answer the question, MJ.”

We went back and forth like that for a while. Eventually, I got into bed, laying with the phone on my chest as I stared at the ceiling. We talked until I could hear the birds chirping outside, and then I fell asleep, still hearing his voice in my ear.

**July 22 nd **

I woke up really late that day. I didn’t have to be ready until 5, though, so I stayed in bed and relaxed for a while. I spent most of the day just on my phone, or watching TV with my mom and petting my dog. It was nice.

Around 3 I started getting ready, then Peter came over at 5.

I opened the door. “Hey.”

“Hi. Happy one month, darling.” He stepped in and hugged me. I noticed he had flowers in his hand.

“Happy one month.”

“Oh, um, the flowers are for your mom,” he said, pulling away.

“Mom!” I called. She came over from the living room.

“Hi, Peter, you look absolutely dashing.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jones.” I noticed him blushing. “I, uh, I brought you flowers. Since I’ve kinda taken over MJ’s life.”

Mom laughed, accepting the flowers. “That’s very sweet of you. MJ, you have everything?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, you kids have fun!”

I hugged my mom goodbye, then took Peter’s hand and went downstairs with him. The same limo as the first gala was there, same chauffeur and all. We got in and started to head upstate.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you how amazing you look,” Peter said.

I laughed nervously. “Thanks. My mom was right, by the way. You look really great. Although, I have one complaint.”

His face fell, just a little bit. “What?”

“I don’t like when you gel your hair back like this. It’s better when it’s all curly and fluffy.”

He broke into a smile with a relieved sigh. “You just want to play with my hair.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “What about it?”

He laughed. I swear that laugh got me every time. The way his eyes lit up when he laughed. “Nothing. Sorry about the gel.”

“Don’t apologize. You look good.”

He laughed again, blushing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, loser.”

 The drive felt like five minutes instead of an hour, and we got to the gala too soon. I almost wanted to stay in the limo and drive around and just be with Peter, but the gala would be fun, and we’d get to dance to _Chasing Cars_ , so I got out of the limo and followed Peter into the base.  

“Hey, there you are!” Mr. Stark greeted us, pulling us along and out into a back patio area. “We should take some pictures before we get settled into the gala.”

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, a little delayed. I laughed at him, and he shot me a pouty look, which only made me laugh more.

We took a bunch of photos on the patio and then headed inside. On the way in, Mr. Stark put a hand on my shoulder and said quietly, “By the way, I made sure Senator Dewsbury wasn’t on the guest list for tonight. He’s actually been banned from all Stark Industries events.”

It kinda spooked me. He remembered, and actually acted against the senator who’d acted…inappropriately, to put it lightly.

“Oh. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark.”

“Come on, kid. Tony. I’m Tony. Parker here still has to call me Mr. Stark, but you don’t.”

I laughed at the offended look on Peter’s face.

“Sounds good, Tony.”

Peter looked even more offended now. Tony laughed at him, too.

“Come on, guys,” Peter whined softly.

“Mr. Stark,” Tony corrected.

Peter just dropped his head and pouted.

I stifled my laughter and held my hand in front of my mouth to try to hide the lingering smile. Tony just kept laughing as he patted Peter on the shoulder and walked past us.

“You’ve met him like five times and he’s nicer to you than he is to me,” Peter complained.

I shrugged, saying, “It probably helps that I don’t steal his tech to go on rogue search and rescue missions.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “That’s fair, but I don’t like it.”

I laughed. “C’mon, let’s just go in and find our table.”

I slipped my hand into his and we went into the gala, wandering through the tables to find one with our names on it. Just like last time, we were seated at a table for two. I wondered if Peter had asked Tony both times, so he could have me to himself.

Tony gave another the-youth-are-angry-and-it’s-because-of-you-jackass-politicians speech, just like last time. We got bigger meals this time, which I wasn’t sure I was happy about because last time the meals were small enough that Peter and I could still eat Five Guys afterwards and I was kind of hoping for a bit of a tradition. But, I mean, the food was good, so I ate it.

After dinner, Peter and I chatted for a bit, and then made our way over to the dance floor. We’d been talking about my dad and his bullshit, and I realized I’d never heard anything about Peter’s parents.

“So, what are your parents like? You just- I’ve never heard you talk about them.”

Peter dropped his eyes. I worried I’d touched on a sore spot. “Do you wanna meet them?”

“Like- like tonight?”

“Yeah, why not? We’ll stick around for a few dances and then I can take you to meet them.”

I smiled. “I’d love that. Are you sure we can just, like, drop in on them?”

He smiled, but it was kind of a sad smile and I couldn’t figure out why. “They won’t mind at all.”

I decided to take his word for it. Some slow song that I didn’t know came on and I put my hands on his shoulders as he put his hands on my waist, and then we just kinda chatted and danced for a few songs.

This was so much nicer than the first gala. No creepy Senator Dickhead. No tension between us. No lingering hangover from the night before. Just Peter and I. Just us. It was so relaxed and easy, and yet there were still butterflies in my stomach. My breath still hitched in my throat when I saw him. It might’ve been my favourite feeling, too. Just knowing that I loved him was kind of comforting.

 _Chasing Cars_ came on, and we both kind of smiled at the same time. He pulled me a little closer, so he could wrap his arms around my waist and I could cross my arms behind his neck.

“After this song, do you wanna head out?” he asked, leaning in to say it into my ear.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

We danced to the rest of the song, gradually getting closer together under our bodies were pressed right up against each other. I could see Tony watching us from behind Peter. He was watching us like a proud dad. It was kind of heartwarming.

The song ended, and Peter kissed me softly, then took my hand and we headed over to Tony and Pepper. Pepper chatted me as Peter explained to Tony that he was taking me to meet his parents. We said goodbye, and then Peter put his arm around me and we headed back to the limo.

He whispered something to the chauffeur, which made me a little nervous, but then he got into the limo next to me and positioned me, so I was laying with my head in his lap. He was playing with my hair absentmindedly while we talked. He told me a bit about his parents. Their names were Richard and Mary, and they were data analysts that had eloped when they were young. I realized that I was getting more of a Wikipedia overview than actual personality. I figured he maybe didn’t know them super well, since he lived with his aunt, but I didn’t ask too much.

We pulled up by a cemetery, and I realized quickly that Peter’s parents were gone, and that’s why he never talked about them. I sat up, staring out the window, and felt awful.

I turned to Peter, ready to apologize, but he was smiling and holding out a hand. “Come on.”

I was speechless. I just took his hand and let him lead me through the graveyard, between tombstones. He wasn’t even looking at the graves we passed. He knew exactly where his parents’ tombstones were. When we got to them, I was in awe. They were made of jade and marble and had lines in several different languages. But the names Richard and Mary Parker stuck out to me, as well as the year 2006.

“You look like you’re going to cry,” Peter whispered.

I turned and hugged him, squeezing my arms around him as tight as I could. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

I ignored that sentiment entirely. “I didn’t know.”

“That’s not your fault either.”

I realized there were tears running down my face. I pulled away from the hug, brushing the tears off his suit jackets and off my face. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“MJ. MJ, stop.”

I froze, wiping the tears off on the edge of my sweater.

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I know. But, I- I had a hard enough time losing my dad and he’s not even dead. I can’t imagine- Peter you were _five_.”

“I’m aware, MJ. Come on, sit down.”

We sat down in front of the graves.

“Okay, um, MJ, this is my mom and dad. Guys, this is my girlfriend, MJ, the girl I’ve been talking about for months.”

I let out this gross, choked sob. It was really cute that he talked about me to his parents, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about how he probably barely remembered them, and it just made me really sad.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, crying. I put my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me.

“It’s fine, MJ, you haven’t done anything.”

“That’s not it.”

He kissed the top of my head, then kept talking to the gravestones. “I think you guys would like her. She’s sweet and so much smarter than I am-”

I laughed. “No, I’m not.”

“Your GPA is higher than mine!”

“Because of that one math quiz that you fell asleep during, Peter.” I turned to the gravestones. “He’s not smarter than me. I’ve never met anybody as smart as this kid right here. You guys made a good one.”

He laughed, blushing. I smiled, wiping the tears off my face again and breathing shakily. “See, this is what I mean about her being sweet.”

“Okay, well, you guys need to know what an absolute sweetheart your son is,” I told the tombstones. I ranted about all the different cute things Peter had done for me in the last couple months for a few minutes, which got me to stop crying and start smiling.

We spent almost an hour in the cemetery before we got back in the limo and went home. My mom had cleared out for the night, taking Murphy with her to my aunt’s place, so we had the apartment to ourselves.

“You feeling better?” Peter asked as we got out of the limo and headed into the building.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said, half-laughing. “I just had a moment. I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

We took the elevator up and went into the apartment.

“So, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Peter, I’m fine,” I said, rolling my eyes and pulling off my sweater.

He fiddled with his hands. “So, since we’re alone…and it’s our anniversary…do you wanna…?”

“Peter, why the fuck do you think my mom made herself scarce?”

He laughed. God, he was a work of art.

I got close to him and slid his suit jacket off of his shoulders. “Honestly, Peter, I don’t understand why you’re so nervous about this. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

He laughed, turning a dark shade of pink and looking down at my fingers as I unbuttoned his shirt. “I don’t know. I think you make me nervous.”

“What?”

“Not, like, actual nervous. But, um, butterflies, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

I smiled, pressing my lips against his. That kiss led to another, and another, and another…

**July 23 rd **

Waking up next to Peter was my favourite thing in the world. He was wearing his boxers and one of my really big sweaters, and had his face buried in my hair, breathing slowly.

I’d realized during the night that he sometimes talked in his sleep. I realized this because I woke up at 5 in the morning to his face nuzzled into my neck, and he said, “You’re my favourite snuffleupagus,” then kissed my neck. It was really funny and really cute. His voice was pitched up when he was asleep, and was a little husky.

But the morning was absolutely beautiful. Early-morning sunlight poured through the windows and lit up his face and hair. My sweater was just the right size on him, and I kinda wanted to just let him keep it. I wanted to take a picture, so I could paint him, but I couldn’t reach my phone without moving his arms, which were draped right over me. I didn’t want to wake him up, so I just watched him sleep. I realized it was probably creepy, but I didn’t really care. The boy was a masterpiece, and he was cuddled up next to me in my sweater, so I felt like I was allowed to admire him.

He woke up about twenty minutes later, and grumbled, “It’s too bright in here.” He then proceeded to bury his face in my hair even more. I was in love with everything he did, and it was the best feeling on Earth.

“Do you wanna go get breakfast or something?” I asked, pulling an arm free to run my hands through his hair. It was still a little sticky from the gel, but he’d slept in it and sweated a lot last night, so it wasn’t too bad.

“I should go home. May has a whole day planned for us.”

I groaned. “Really?”

“Really,” he mumbled, pushing himself up onto one elbow so he could look at me. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

I could feel my cheeks warming up. “So are you.”

“Oh, please, MJ. You’re- you’re flawless.”

I laughed, and repeated myself. “So are you.”

He stared at me for a moment. “How mad do you think May would be if I just stayed in bed with you all day?”

“Pretty mad, Peter.”

He groaned, falling back on his pillow. “But I wanna stay,” he whined.

“I want you to stay, too, but I also don’t want May to hate me for taking up all of your time.”

“Fine. I’m taking your sweater, though.”

I shrugged. “I suppose that’s fair. I have a lot of yours.”

He looked over at my closet and sighed. “Am I ever gonna get those back?”

I laughed. “When they stop smelling like you.”

“You should wash the smell out of them, then, because I currently have, like, two shirts and a pair of jeans.”

“Well, now you have a sweater to go with them,” I said, tugging on the strings.

He pouted, pulling the hood up and pulling the strings to shut the hood around his face. I laughed, and he struggled to maintain his pout, but broke into a smile.

“Come on, get up. I’ll make you some breakfast and then you can go home, and May won’t be mad at either of us.”

He groaned, but I managed to get him to roll out of bed. I coaxed him out of my room and into the kitchen.

“So, what are you feeling? Eggs and bacon? Pancakes? Cereal?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want, love.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

Now, that was a glorious sight. Peter, leaning against my counter in my sweater and his boxers, crossing his arms and leaving the hood up. I found myself smiling, like I always did around him.

“I’m making pancakes, then, because I think there’s some leftover batter in the fridge.”

There was, so I gave it a good mix, then got out a pan, buttered it, and started making pancakes. Peter was still pouty about me kicking him out, so I turned on some music to cheer him up. I wasn’t really watching him, since I was making the pancakes, but I figured it worked, because halfway through the first song, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Peter, how the fuck am I supposed to flip pancakes if you’re holding me like this.”

“I’m not pinning your arms down or anything.”

I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t help to have a 16-year-old boy on my back while I’m making pancakes.”

“Would you rather me on your front instead of your back?”

“No!” I laughed.

“Then I’m not moving.”

I sighed, and kept making pancakes. I made us each three, and then managed to push him off of me long enough to get butter and syrup out of the fridge. We went over to the table to eat, and then Peter had to get dressed and head out.

“I’ll text you later,” he said, hugging me goodbye.

“Yeah, sounds good. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He headed out, leaving me alone in the apartment. I did some cleaning, and then I got dressed and went out for a walk. It was super hot out, but it was sunny and there were a lot of people walking their dogs. I wandered around the city, kinda wishing I’d brought my camera so I could’ve done some photography.

I realized my phone was ringing. It was the number of the police station.

“Hello?”

“Um, is this Michelle Jones?”

“Yes? Is this about Cindy Moon?”

“Yes. We need you to come in to identify a piece of clothing.”

There were a million thoughts racing through my head.

“Yeah, I can come in right now. I’m, like, a ten minute walk from the station.”

“Great. When you get here ask for Detective Boone. He’s the lead on the case.”

“Alright, thank you.”

I hung up and headed down to the station, shaking with every step. It was about Cindy. I had to identify a piece of clothing. Had they called her parents yet? Was she dead? What if she’d shown up in a ditch somewhere?

I walked into the police station, hands shaking. I walked up to the desk at the front. “Hi, I’m Michelle Jones. I’m here to see Detective Boone.”

“Oh, that’s me.” I turned to see a middle-aged man holding a cup of coffee sitting in the waiting area. “They told me you’d be here right away, so I thought I’d wait here. You mind following me?”

I nodded, following him. He took me through a door, down a hallway, and into a big, shared office.

“Take a seat, Ms. Jones.” He gestured to a seat by the desk. “Now, we’ve already contacted Ms. Moon’s parents and let them know what was going on, but they were unable to confidently identify whether or not this article of clothing belongs to their daughter, so I’m hoping you might have an idea, or someone you can refer me to. Do you have an…aversion to blood?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got a strong stomach.”

“Alright.”

He opened an evidence box that was sitting on his desk and showed me what was inside. There was a pale blue, cable knit sweater inside, with a long incision that looked like it could’ve been from a stabbing and a lot of blood.

Oh, god.

“I, um, I’ve seen Cindy wear a sweater like that. Actually, I think I was with her when she bought it.”

“Do you know if she was wearing this the night she disappeared?”

I hesitated. “Um, I wasn’t with her that night, but my friend Miles was. He’d have an answer.”

“Take a picture and send it to him, then,” the detective suggested.

I pulled out my phone and sent it to the group chat. I figured everyone deserved to know what was happening. Miles confirmed she was wearing it the night she disappeared.

“Yeah, she was wearing that sweater.”

“Okay, thank you. Now, I’m going to unload a lot of information on you, and not a lot of it is spectacular news. I don’t want to upset you, but you probably want to know what’s going on with the investigation, right?”

“Right.”

“So, we found this downtown, near Oscorp headquarters. We’ve shut down a few blocks and are conducting an intense search and rescue mission. This will be a 72 hour search that starts tonight. However, because of the placement of the cut in the sweater and the amount of blood, the chances that we’ll find your friend alive are, admittedly, not ideal.”

“What are the odds?”

“Do you want my honest estimate?”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath, looking at me with sympathy. “Ten percent.”

Well, that felt like a punch to the gut.

“I know that seems small, but-”

“Excuse me, Detective Boone, but I have the DNA test results.” A very official-looking woman walked in and handed him a folder, smiled at me in that polite way, and then left. The detective opened the folder and flipping through some papers.

“Oh.”

“What is it?”

“The, um, the blood on the sweater was confirmed to belong to Ms. Moon.”

I sat back in my chair. I had that weird, hot feeling that spreads from the inside out. The feeling you get when it feels like your world is ending. That sinking stomach, heart in your throat, feverish inside and out feeling. I watched him put the folder down, and stared at him.

“So, there’s potentially 72 hours until we get news, and only a ten percent chance that Cindy’s alive?”

“We don’t know enough for an accurate estimate-”

“How long have you been doing this?”

Detective Boone looked down. “I’ve been an NYPD detective for twenty years.”

“So, you’ve worked a lot of cases like this. Which means that your guess is most likely accurate.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “Listen, I know this is hard to hear. It’s a difficult thing. But we are doing everything in our power for your friend. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. A lot of girls who go missing in Queens don’t turn up again.”

I let that sink in. I’d been thinking that all along, but I think part of me always believed she’d be back soon. We’d get her sass and wit and memes back. We’d get to see her and Miles get together. We’d get to see her smile and laugh and be happy. And everybody else had been telling me that we would. Until now. Now there was an experienced detective sitting in front of me, telling me all my worst nightmares were about to come true.

“If you have to give an educated guess as to what happened to her, what would you say happened?”

“Ms. Jones-”

“Please, just tell me. I want to be realistic about this.”

He sighed. “There have been a lot of underground labs popping up in recent years that try to create superheroes.”

“Yeah, mutant testing. That’s your guess?”

“That, or… young girl like her, might’ve been trafficking.” Well, he was honest.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Can I just have a moment? To let it all sink in?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll go put this stuff back in Evidence.”

He picked up the box and left. I texted the group chat and let them know what was happening, then just sat there and stared at the wall for a while. A few minutes passed, and the detective came back.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m coping.”

“Do you need a ride home or something?”

I shook my head. “I, uh, I’m going over to the diner across the street. I asked my friends to meet me there.”

“Alright, kid. Stay safe, alright? I’ll call you when I have news for you.”

“Thanks.”

He shook my hand and walked me out.

I went across the street to the diner and got a table. Miles and Liz met me there a few minutes later. We ordered drinks and fries and mostly just sat in silence. Peter showed up a little while later and sat down next to me.

“Ten percent,” Miles muttered. “Ten percent.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Liz said quietly, twirling a fry between her fingers.

“Not by much,” Peter mumbled, rubbing his face with both hands. “It doesn’t feel real, you know? It feels like we’re gonna wake up tomorrow and she’ll never have left.”

“God, I wish,” Liz groaned.

I picked at my fries, thinking that if I ever saw Cindy alive again, I’d bring her a whole bag full of fries.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if she turns up…dead.”

I looked at Miles. “It’s not your fault she’s gone, dude. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I know, but… I was the last person to see her alive. What if there was something I did wrong?”

“Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. Some sick fuck kidnapped her, and it has nothing to do with you. It probably had nothing to do with her, either.” My voice lacked its usual inflections. It was flat and monotone and quiet. I couldn’t summon the will to change it. I felt flat and monotone and quiet.

“They probably just took the first girl who was unfortunate enough to walk into the bathroom,” Liz added.

He stopped talking and looked at his coffee. He hadn’t taken a single sip since he got it.

“Miles,” Peter said, “if it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine.”

“Don’t.”

He looked at me, brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t. Peter, you can’t-”

“But I had the tech-”

“And you got hurt! Or have you taken so many painkillers that you forgot about your stab wound entirely?” As I said it, I ran my hand over his ribs, only to realize that the stitches were gone. I stopped cold. “Oh, my god, is it gone?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I lifted the edge of his shirt and looked at the skin under his ribs. The would was entirely gone. Nothing but a faint scar. I let go of his shirt and stared at the table. “Peter…”

“Mr. Stark had them put me on some new, experimental drugs. Don’t worry about it.”

First of all, that was a boldfaced lie. Secondly, that wasn’t calming in the slightest.

I ran my hand through my hair. “God, Peter, I don’t know what to do about you sometimes.”

Liz was staring at him. “Didn’t you get stabbed, like, Wednesday?”

The fact that this was a discussion we were even having was so incredibly insane to me.

“Yeah.”

“Peter, bro, it’s been five days. How are you completely healed?” Miles asked.

Peter shushed them. “Not so loud. It’s just some new medicine. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not that easy, you dink!” Liz shouted. “Cindy’s probably dead and you got stabbed! We can’t just not worry about it!”

She was drawing eyes from other people in the diner.

“Liz,” I warned.

“No, I’m not done. Peter, whatever the fuck you took, if it kills you, I will bring you back _myself_ just to kick your ass!”

I’d never seen Liz so angry. Her whole face was red, and she was shaking.

Then tears started rolling down her face. “We lost one friend, we can’t lose another.” She used her sleeve to wipe her tears away. Peter looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Liz scoffed, but didn’t say anything.

We finished eating in silence.

“You still want me to stay over?” Peter asked after a while.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll meet you at your place then.” He pulled his keys and wallet out of his pocket.

“Peter, I walked here.”

“What? It’s like half an hour.”

“I was on a walk, and then I got the call-”

“You went on a walk? Alone?” Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was the middle of the day, Miles. Broad daylight.”

Liz sighed. “With everything going on right now-”

“I just needed some air.”

“Then go sit on your fire escape!” Liz said. “Jesus Christ.”

“So, I’m banned from walking around now?”

“Until we get Cindy back and everything dies down, yeah.”

Liz had tears in her eyes again, so I backed down.

“Alright. Okay. I’m sorry.”

Miles looked surprised, but didn’t say anything. We all paid and left.

I walked with Peter to his car and got in.

“You didn’t notice the scar last night?”

“Well, I mean, I wasn’t really focused on _that_.”

He laughed.

“But, I mean, you still had stitches in, and it was pretty dark in the apartment-”

“And we were otherwise occupied?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah.”

We drove back to my place. I stared out the window.

“You look like you wanna say something.”

“I don’t wanna start anything, though.”

“Just say it, MJ.”

I sighed, turning to him. “Do you know how difficult it is to be with you?”

He didn’t respond. I realized he was pulling into a parking lot. He parked at the edge, where there were no other cars, and looked at me. “What do you mean?”

“You’re constantly getting hurt, there’s a whole side of your life that I know nothing about, and-and-”

“What?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. But you need to know how much I try to not let things bother me, because I know you’re keeping secrets, and I know your internship puts you at risk. But that’s all I know. It’s hard.”

“What are you trying to say, love?”

I let my head fall back. “I don’t know. I _don’t know_.”

“No, tell me, because it sounds an awful lot like you don’t want to be with me right now.”

“What? No! God, Peter, I wouldn’t try so hard if I didn’t _want_ to be with you. You just need to understand that this relationship is a lot harder for me than it is for you.”

Peter bit his lip. “I don’t- MJ, it’s so difficult for me to keep secrets from you. I hate it. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want you to-to acknowledge how hard I try. I try not to ask question you can’t answer. I try not to feel hurt by the things you leave out. I try to ignore it when you and Tony go off on your own and talk quietly. It’s fucking hard, Peter, because you’re the love of my life and you know everything about me and I feel like I only know half of you.”

Peter dropped his head, closing his eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I don’t really think about how- wow. I- if I knew you were keeping secrets from me, I’d be doing everything I could to find them out. I’m sorry.”

I took his hand. “Peter, all I need is you to know how much it sucks.”

“I know. Geez, if you came over with bruises and stitches, and couldn’t tell me what happened, I’d lose my mind.”

I brushed some hair out of my face, sighing. “It sucks, Peter. I mean, I love you, and I can’t ask you to change anything, but I need you to understand how hard it is for me, so you understand when I freak out in the middle of restaurants.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I leaned over and put a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards me so I could kiss him. He made this cute, happy humming sound against my lips. I smiled and pulled away.

“Can we go back to my place and watch a movie now?”

“Yeah.”

I put my legs up across his lap and took his hand. He looked at my legs. “You’re-you’re gonna sit like that?”

“Yep.”

He shrugged. “I guess I deserve that.”

We got in and ended up just lying on the couch, talking out our fears about Cindy. Neither of us wanted to keep internalizing all of it.

That meant my mom walked in on a very intense therapy session. We were both crying, both hoping she was okay, and both making gross sobbing noises.

“Hey, kids, is everything okay?”

I sniffed, wiping at my face. “I, uh, did you get my texts about Cindy?”

“Yeah. Honey, I’m so sorry. I want to tell you it’ll be okay, but-”

“It’s okay. Um, Peter, let’s just go into my room.”

We got off of the couch, and my mom blocked us.

“Okay, give me a hug. You look like you both need it.”

There was a little group hug. It was short and sweet, but my mom was a good hugger.

“Alright. You kids have fun. I’ll be getting some work done in my room.”

She disappeared into her room. Peter and I went into mine and sat on the bed.

“Oh, you have some makeup smudged under your eye,” Peter said, reaching to wipe it away. I brushed him off.

“It’s fine, I’ll just wash it off in a bit anyways.”

“You feel any better?”

“Not a lot, but yeah. I’m okay. We just gotta wait it out.”

“Yeah. It’s only three more days. We’ve been waiting over a week,” Peter said.

I tried to be optimistic, but I remembered the way Detective Boone had talked about it earlier today, and broke down in tears again. Peter pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me. I realized he started to cry again, too, and squeezed my arms around him, extra tight.

We stood there, hugging and crying, for almost twenty minutes, before Peter pulled away, sniffling.

“We should probably just go to bed.”

“Yeah, probably,” I agreed, gingerly wiping the tears off of Peter’s face.

“I, uh, brought over an extra pair of sweatpants if you wanna sleep in them tonight.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. You’re the best.”

“I try. Also, when you texted me to stay over, I figured you were upset, and I wanted to cheer you up somehow.”

I kissed him. “You’re my favourite person.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out his sweatpants and handed them to me. “I even sprayed them with my cologne.”

I smiled. “I love you. Okay, I’m gonna run to the bathroom and wash my face and change and stuff, then we can turn on a movie to fall asleep to.”

“Sounds good.”

I took the sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt from my closet and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I got back to my room, Peter had changed into his sweatpants and taken off his shirt.

“I’ll go brush my teeth and stuff. Be right back.”

He brought a little plastic baggie with his toothbrush and toothpaste with him and left the room. I pulled back the covers and laid down, picking up my phone charger and plugging my phone in. I didn’t have any updates from the police.

Liz texted me and asked if we could go to the beach the next day to try to get our minds off of things. I agreed, and then Peter came in, so I put my phone down.

“Do you still wanna watch a movie?”

I shook my head. “Nah, not really.”

He got into bed next to me and stretched out his arm, so I could put my head on his shoulder. I draped my arm over him, running my fingers over the faded scar below his ribs.

“I’m sorry I worry you so much.”

“You’re forgiven, Peter,” I said, tilting my head to look up at him. He turned is head to kiss me on the forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The room fell silent, and then the only sound was Peter’s slow, heavy breaths as he fell asleep.

**July 24 th **

Liz and I got back from the beach that afternoon, both of us agreeing that the beach had done nothing to help ease our anxiety. I stayed home after that, petting Murphy. My mom had another business thing that took her out of town for the night, so I was home alone. I didn’t want to make Peter come over again, and even more so, I didn’t want to think about anything. I debated the idea of alcohol for a while, going back and forth on it. Pro, I might feel better. Con, I might feel worse. Pro, it would make being home alone all night a little easier. Con, hangovers suck, and I had plans with Tony for the next day. He was taking me out for coffee to get to know me a little better. Pro, getting drunk and watching movies is super fun. Con, throwing up after vodka shots is not.

I tossed the idea back and forth for hours, and finally gave in. Harry and Liz ended up coming over to get drunk with me. We were all hanging out in my living room, drunk off of our asses, watching _Back to the Future_.

“John Mulaney was right. They really don’t explain why a teenager and an 80-year-old disgraced nuclear physicist are best friends,” Harry slurred, lifting his beer to his lips.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” Liz complained. “This whole fucking movie is really fucking stupid.”

I laughed. “Drunk Liz is my favourite Liz.”

She scrunched her nose.

“Hey, why don’t you ask Peter to come over?” Harry asked. “He could probably use a drink. And you could probably use a hug, Jones.”

“Nah, he doesn’t like when I get drunk to avoid my problems.”

“So what? Tell him we’re having a good fucking time,” Liz said. “He’d come over just to make out with you if you asked.”

I stared at her.

“Oh, just text him,” Liz groaned. “Maybe if we get him drunk he’ll drop the dumb fucking idea that he can save Cindy.”

“Jesus, Liz,” Harry mumbled.

I picked up my phone and texted Peter. He wasn’t happy that I was drunk, but he gave in and came over.

He showed up ten minutes later with a backpack that he dropped in my room.

“I figured I’ll probably end up staying the night.”

Harry laughed. “Hope you brought protection.”

“Harry!” Liz chastised.

I didn’t pay attention to them. “Babe, do you want a drink?”

Peter furrowed his brow, trying to decide, then grabbed the bottle of vodka that was on the table and started chugging. I stared in disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Harry muttered.

“Hell yeah, Peter!” Liz shouted.

He put the bottle down, and then laid down next to me on the couch.

“So. _Back to the Future_ , huh?”

I laughed. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”

“What? No.”

“Peter, you could breathe in the faint smell of alcohol and get hungover,” Liz pointed out.

Even Peter laughed at that. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be fine in the end, though.”

“Ooh, that vodka’s starting to hit him. Look at the rosy cheeks,” Harry said.

It was true. The tops of his cheeks and nose were starting to get pink. I laughed, touching his face with the tips of my fingers.

“MJ, how many drinks have you had?”

I laughed. “Fuck if I know.”

He grinned, pulling me on top of him.

“Jesus, Peter, her room is right over there.”

Liz laughed, taking a picture of the two of us. I wondered if she was over Peter now, or if she was just doing a really good job of acting like she was.

We watched the movie and goofed off for a while, then Harry called a cab for him and Liz and they left.

“You know what we should do?” Peter said, frantically searching for his phone. He found it under the couch and held it up victoriously. “We should dance. Like, put on some slow tune and just, like, sway.”

I laughed, walking towards him. “Sway?”

“Sway. Let’s go into your room so I can hook it up to your TV.”

“Are you trying to be smooth?”

“I mean, that’s not really what I’m going for, but if you wanna…”

I laughed. “Let’s start with the dancing.”

**July 25 th **

I had Harry go into his dad’s office to get a hangover cure, so that I wasn’t super gross and groggy for coffee with Tony, but Harry woke up late, so I went to the café with the hangover. It wasn’t bad, and once I’d woken up fully and eaten, I was okay. Not great, but okay. Harry agreed to get me the hangover cure for after the coffee thing.

I got to the café early and found a seat in the back corner. Tony showed up a few minutes later.

“You already ordered,” he observed, staring at the coffee mug on the table.

“I, uh, didn’t want to let you pay for me.”

He rolled his eyes. “You kids. Alright. I’m gonna go get my coffee and I’ll be right back.”

While he did that, I put my phone on silent and put it in my purse. Tony came back and sat down, and started asking me questions. Not the super intense questioning that parents give their kid’s significant others, but a friendlier, getting to know me type of thing. It was nice. I figured maybe he did it because he knew he intimidated me a little bit.

Anyways, he asked me a question about what I wanted to do in the future, and I kinda started rambling about how I wanted to go into psychology because I found it really interesting, but I also thought I wanted to go into graphic design because I was so artsy, but I also wanted to go into politics because I had a lot of intense opinions about how America should be run. That ramble sparked a really deep conversation. We were both at the bottom of our coffees, leaning over the table, locked in a really great intellectual conversation, when his phone rang. He looked at the screen.

“It’s Peter. I’m gonna take this. Sit tight.”

He got up and took the call. He stood in the very back corner of the café, looking more and more agitated as time went on. Worried, I checked my phone, only to realize I had about a million missed texts and calls from all of my friends.

Harry had found Cindy in his dad’s home office.

I panicked, standing up. I looked to Tony for confirmation. He made a shooing motion, still talking to Peter.

I got up and left, running out to my car and hightailing it to the hospital where Harry had taken Cindy.

I ran into the hospital room. Everyone was sitting in various spots around the room in silence. Her parents were in the corner closest to her bed. Miles, Jessie, and Ned were leaning against a table on one side of the room. Liz and Harry were sitting in chairs on the other side of the room. Peter was sitting against the wall closest to the door, saving a seat for me.

“What happened? What’s going on? Is she okay?”

Harry stood up and headed over.

“She was all tied up in my dad’s home office. I called the police and then drove her here. The doctors are running some tests, and we don’t know what’s going on beyond that. That’s the sparknotes, anyways. Just sit down. We were all worried because you weren’t picking up.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

I sat down next to Peter and put my head on his shoulder. As terrifying as it was, seeing Cindy in that bed, scratched up and bruised and bloody, it was a huge relief that she was alive.

My shoulders felt relaxed for the first time in ten days. I felt like I could breathe again. Cindy was alive and here and we knew who’d taken her which meant we’d get answers. That was all I needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so um. I hope that didn't hurt you as much as it hurt me because I cried so much writing this chapter. Hopefully chapter 12 will be up a little quicker. Thanks for bearing with me y'all!


	12. Unease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there was a long break between chapters and this one isn't super long, and I'm super sorry about that. I was in a show and the last week of rehearsals completely exhausted me, and then I was travelling for a bit, and then my computer decided to play games and dump what I had written but not really?? Idk. Anyways, please enjoy this chapter.  
> Songs are 57-60.

**July 26 th **

Peter and I went to the hospital to keep Cindy company. Her mom had gotten special permission to bring Cindy’s dog, Leia, and there were a bunch of restrictions, but we got to sit with Cindy in her room with the dog.

She was pretty quiet and subdued, and understandably so. She mostly just sat there, petting her puppy, and staring out the window. She talked, but never told us anything about what had happened to her. We did know, based on some tests, that she had been experimented on, which just made me want to kill Harry’s dad. Judging by the track marks in her arms, they’d been using serums, and not just pure torture like they did to some people. Although, other wounds suggested at least a little abuse.

God, I wanted to murder somebody for doing this to her. For hurting her so bad that she wasn’t smiling, or joking, or even really talking. It was painful to watch. It was painful to look at her face, because she looked so different. She looked haunted. Whatever had happened in those twelve days had taken the light right out of her eyes, and it made me want to scream.

Eventually, the three of us went down to the hospital’s courtyard. We had to leave Leia in the room, because there’s a million things that can go wrong with dogs in hospitals, but it was a short walk anyways. Just to get Cindy on her feet and breathing fresh air.

She barely spoke the whole day, and didn’t crack a single smile, but just before we left, I definitely heard a whispered, “Thank you.”

**July 27 th **

Peter showed up at my place at 6 in the morning. He had a key and the door code, so I was woken up by his lips on my forehead.

“I’m going to the gym. You wanna come?”

I groaned. “You could’ve just called.”

“It’s six. Your phone’s on _Do Not Disturb_.”

“Perfect,” I said, rolling over.

“So, is that a no?”

I turned my head to tell him to go without me, but I actually looked at him. He didn’t seem okay. He looked kind of scared, actually.

“Yeah, I’ll come. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“Okay.”

I rolled out of bed and got dressed, not even bothering to tell Peter to look away. Wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me naked, anyways.

“So, um, Harry’s grounded,” Peter said quietly. He was sitting on the edge of the bed now.

“Yeah.”

“He’s stuck in that house with his asshole father-”

Peter’s voice broke and his head dropped. I finished pulling my shirt over my head and kneeled in front of Peter. “Hey. Harry’s gonna be fine. We know he can handle himself.”

“MJ, you saw Cindy yesterday. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“You’re right. We don’t. Which sucks, because Harry’s father knows all of us and has the resources to hurt us again. But if that’s all we focus on-”

“He could hurt Harry, MJ. He’s got him stuck in the house. Or he could go after Ned, or you…”

Tears were pooling in his eyes. I put both of my hands on his face. “I know.”

“How are you so calm?”

“It’s six in the morning, Peter. I don’t have the brain functionality to panic until at least seven-thirty.”

He cracked a smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked gently, dropping one hand from his cheek to his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Alright. Lemme go to the bathroom and finish getting ready and then we can go to the gym.”

He nodded, so I stood up, kissed him on the forehead, and disappeared into my bathroom. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, tied up my hair, the whole deal, then went out and put on my sneakers.

“Ready to go?” I called.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Peter padded out of my bedroom, and we went downstairs to his car. We drove to the fancy gym that Tony paid for, Peter signed me in as a guest, and then made a beeline for the boxing gear. He wrapped up his hands and immediately started beating the pulp out of a punching bag. I watched, scared, just for a moment, then got on with my own workout. I kept an eye on him, though. He looked pissed as hell, and was taking it all out on the punching bag. It was kind of painful to watch. Part of me wanted to stop him and hug him and comfort him, but I figured a little punching would probably help him. After a few minutes, though, he stopped and sat down, dropping his head. I stopped what I was doing and went over to him.

“Peter?”

He looked up at me, and there were tears running down his face. I sat down in front of him and held his hands. “What if-”

“Don’t do that to yourself, babe. Just don’t.”

“Harry could get hurt, MJ. Ned, or Jessie, or Miles, or _you_ could get hurt.”

I sighed, running my thumb over his wrapped up knuckles. “I know.”

“I’m scared, love. I’m more scared now than I was before.”

I bit my lip, fighting tears. My nose tingled, and my eyes prickled, and I was barely holding back. “Me too.” Thank goodness my voice didn’t break. I was barely holding it together. Seeing Peter cry made it really hard for me not to cry. I sucked it up and leaned forward, wiping the tears off his face. He smiled, just a little bit, and sniffled.

“Sorry I dragged you here just to breakdown during my workout.”

“Don’t apologize, Peter. I’d rather be here to comfort you than be sleeping and oblivious.”

He smiled again, then leaned in and kissed me. “I have the best girlfriend on earth.”

“Don’t forget it.”

He stood up and went back to punching. Again, he was going fast and it was kind of scary, but I went back to my workout.

He broke down like that a couple more times that morning, but we got through the workout. After that, we went down to the abandoned building by the river, climbed up, and made some art as a form of therapy. Mine turned out to be a pretty soft abstract piece. Peter’s was dark and scribbly.

He was kind of scaring me today.

Eventually, he just took me home, then left. So, my hot Friday night date was a pint of ice cream and a John Mulaney special.

**July 28 th **

All of us kind of felt shitty that day, so eventually we had a pajama party to cope with everything. It didn’t really help, but it was better than nothing.

**July 29 th **

Peter came over with his dog, so we had a doggy playdate-slash-sleepover. Peter was sitting on the couch, phone out, taking a video of me playing with the dogs.

“Peter,” I whined, tickling Murphy, “you could just play with the dogs, too, you know.”

“I know.”

He didn’t move.

I found out later that he was taking a video of me more than he was taking a video of the dogs. When I realized that, I stopped playing with the dogs and walked over to the couch.

“So, was bringing your dog over just one big ploy to get me on video?”

He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. It might’ve worked if it were to anybody else, but I knew him too well.

I rolled my eyes, putting my knees up on the couch, straddling him, and wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. He grinned.

“If this is where taking videos of you gets me…”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Parker.”

I leaned in and kissed him. A very concerned Thwip jumped up on the couch and barked at me until I got off of him. Peter laughed.

“She’s not hurting me, you doofus!”

Thwip laid across Peter’s lap, tongue hanging out, tail wagging.

“She’s a little con artist,” I laughed. “Stealing my spot.”

Murphy sat at my feet, looking up at me with expectant eyes. I patted my lap, and he jumped up, sitting and leaning against me. I looked over at Peter. He was smiling, but it was a smile I hadn’t seen in a while. Since before Cindy disappeared.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just- I really love you.”

“I love you a lot, too, Parker.”

He planted a kiss on my cheek.

Yeah, that one was a good night.

**July 30 th **

I woke up to Thwip licking my face. Once I was awake, she moved on to licking Peter’s face.

“Oh, come on, darling,” he groaned, pushing her back as he woke up.

I laughed. I could wake up like this every day for the rest of my life.

“Sorry. I forgot to warn you about her alarm clock of a tongue.”

“It’s alright. Although, I’m mad that you let another girl lick your face,” I teased.

“Oh, yeah? You let another guy sit in your lap last night.”

“You let a girl take my place on your lap!”

He laughed, grabbing my face with both hands and kissing me.

“Peter-”

“I know, I know. You haven’t brushed your teeth yet. But I’m impatient and your morning breath isn’t bad at all.”

I laughed, getting up. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go brush my teeth so you can kiss me more.”

“What time are you hanging out with Cindy today?” Peter asked.

I looked at my alarm clock. “We’ve got a few hours, don’t worry.”

He stretched his arms over his head, yawning. “Good. I wanna make out with you.”

I laughed. “Okay. Lemme freshen up a little bit and then I’ll crawl back into bed.”

Peter sat up, rubbing his eyes. “I could probably stand to brush my teeth, too.” He got up and followed me into the bathroom.

We did the thing where we were brushing our teeth side-by-side. It was pretty quiet, because I think we were both thinking the same thing. What if this was, like, a glimpse into the future? What if in two years we’re doing this in an apartment every morning before a class at NYU? What if in ten years we’re doing this before we go to work? What if we brushed our teeth like this the morning we get engaged, or the morning after our wedding? What if this high school romance was actually a forever thing?

It was nice to think about. A future with Peter. Waking up next to him every morning, forever. I could get used to it.

I spat, then he did, and before I could say anything, he had both hands on my waist and was pulling me in to kiss me.

We ended up lying in bed, just making out and smiling and making out some more.

If this were a daily thing, I’d be the happiest girl on earth.

Eventually, Peter had to go so I could get ready to go to the park with Cindy. I quickly got dressed and pulled my hair up, then walked to the park to meet Cindy.

When I got there, she was sitting on a swing, two glass Coke bottles on the ground next to her. I sat down on the swing next to her.

“How you feeling?” I asked.

“Pretty good, all things considered,” she responded, picking up the Cokes and handing me one.

“Uh, I don’t have a bottle opener.”

She pulled a Captain America bottle opener out of her pocket and opened both of our bottles.

“Where did you get that?”

She shrugged. “My parents got it for me to ‘cheer me up’ when I was in the hospital. Anyways, you gotta tell me what happened while I was gone.”

“Do you want the relationship drama, or-”

“What relationship drama? Did you and Peter fight?”

I laughed. “Okay, so, basically what happened was the day after you went missing, he lied and told me he had an internship thing, and he said he’d be home by, like, five-thirty-”

“Ooh, he wasn’t though, was he?”

“Nope. And, like, obviously, I was terrified, right? I mean, we were all on edge, because we didn’t know what had happened to you, and he just disappeared. I asked Tony to track him, but he couldn’t do anything, and-”

“Since when are you on a first name basis with _Tony Stark?_ ”

I laughed. “He’s been insisting on it for a while. Anyways, so, Tony said there was no internship thing and that Peter was pretty much off the grid, so I was pissed, right? So, Harry came over to keep an eye on me and I think I did, like, eight shots that night.”

“Eight shots? MJ, you’re a lightweight.”

“Yeah, I was pretty wasted.”

“Do you even remember anything that happened?”

“Way too well. So, I start drinking, Harry’s trying to keep me calm, and Peter finally texted me, like, two or three hours after he was supposed to be back. And, I mean, I was eight shots in. I’m surprised any of my texts were actually intelligible. So, he figured it out, and he was trying to claim he hadn’t lied to me, but I’d talked to Tony so I knew that wasn’t true, and then he came over because I just wanted to hug him and make sure he was safe.”

“You’re such a sucker for that boy. He could rob a bank and you’d call him like, ‘babe, come home, I just wanna make sure you’re okay!’” she mocked, grinning.

I feigned offence. “Robbing a bank is a very dangerous job, Moon!”

She laughed. It wasn’t the big, Cindy Moon laugh I knew and loved, but it was something. “So, what happened when he got to your place?”

“We fought.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t like that I was drunk. I didn’t like that he lied. It was a rough night.”

“But you guys made up right?”

I laughed sheepishly. “Not that night. It took him a hot minute to realize he was being an idiot.”

“Wait, what did he say during the fight?”

“Okay, well, when he’d gone out, he’d basically stolen Stark tech and gone out looking for you-”

“What? He did that to try and come after me?” I hesitated, watching her expression. She looked…almost angry. “That’s such a dumb move. That’d just cause everyone else stress and put him in danger. Plus, I mean, he didn’t find me, so how’d that work out for him?”

“Right? That’s what I said. So, anyways, I told him not to go out looking for you again, he spouted some ‘I have a responsibility’ bullshit, got mad at me for getting drunk, and then basically just walked out on me.”

“ _WHAT?_ You were worried about him and he walked out on you? What the fuck?”

“Yep.”

“Geez, Parker’s stupid.”

“So, then, the next day I did a barbecue, just so I had something to do to distract me, and Peter showed up and hour and a half late.”

“Why? Did he apologize at the barbecue?”

“No, it was just really awkward. Like, it was fun and everything, and then Peter showed up and everyone just…stopped talking.”

Cindy rolled her eyes. “So, what I’m hearing is that the second I’m not around, Peter turns into the dumbest boy ever.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it was not the best week for him.”

“Wait, how long did this go on?”

I thought about it. “Uh, we fought on the Saturday, the barbecue was Sunday… oh, okay, so on Monday I got drunk. Again. Because I’m stupid. And Liz was giving me shit for whining about Peter so she drove me to his building to apologize to him, but he shut down because I was drunk, just like before.”

“So, what, you guys didn’t make up?”

“Nope. Actually, I kinda made things worse. He wouldn’t even look at me. I was pretty sure he just entirely hated me.”

Cindy shook her head. “The way Peter talks about you, which, by the way, is the most annoying thing ever because he never shuts up about you, there’s no way he’d hate you just because you were drunk.”

“Yeah, well, I thought he did. So, then, on Tuesday, Tony texted me and told me to boot it up to the base because Peter got fucking stabbed.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? He got stabbed?”

“Yep.”

“Was he- I mean, I know he’s okay, I’ve seen him, and he’s fine, but _holy shit._ MJ, what the fuck?” She gestured a little too wildly and tipped my Coke out of my hand, spilling the last half of my drink. “Oops.”

“Cindy!”

She laughed. “Sorry, Jones.” She handed me the rest of hers. “Compensation.”

I rolled my eyes, but took the Coke. “Anyways, so I basically thought that when Peter woke up he was just straight up going to dump me, and so I was just, like, sitting next to his bed, waiting for him to wake up, panicking about the whole situation. Tony came in and gave me a little pep talk, because I was really upset-”

“Sorry, I still can’t believe you’re on a first name basis with him. You call Iron Man by his first name. Do you know how wild that is?”

“Pretty wild.”

“So wild. Sorry, continue.”

“Okay, so, Peter woke up and he seemed pretty dazed, so I pressed the, like, nurse call button thing and then they ran like a million tests on him. I think at one point Liz and I talked for, like, half an hour. Oh, and keep in mind, at this point I had not slept a wink since you’d gone missing, just out of pure stress and anxiety, so I was exhausted. So, the nurses clear out, and it’s just Peter and I, and he knows I’m absolutely drained. And Tony had gotten a room all set up for me, so Peter and I made up and then he told me to go to bed.”

Cindy smirked.

“What?”

“I think I know where this is headed.”

“Cindy!”

“Well? Am I right?”

“No, you’re not.”

She looked surprised.

“I mean, I did ask him to come spend the night with me,” I said, ignoring the hopeful expression on her face, “but we just cuddled. You know, since I was exhausted.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lame, but fair.”

“Yeah, that’s most of the relationship stuff. I mean, you missed our one month anniversary, but that’s about it for the Peter drama.”

“Oh, shit, I missed your one month. What did you guys do?”

“Our original plan was to just hang out at home, but then Tony planned a gala for that day, so we went to the gala instead. Oh, and after he took me to meet his parents.”

“Oh my god, that’s huge!”

“Yeah, I cried.”

“Why?”

“Well, see, I didn’t know until the moment we pulled up to the cemetery that his parents were dead.”

Cindy’s jaw dropped. For the first time in her life, she was speechless.

“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe he just never told some of us. I think Ned and Harry knew, but I sure didn’t.”

“Holy crap, dude. So what happened?”

“We, uh, sat there and talked to his parents tombstones. It was actually really sweet. I did a lot of crying.”

“Man, I can’t imagine crying on an anniversary instead of having sex,” she joked.

I raised an eyebrow. “Jumping to conclusions there, Moon.”

She laughed. “Damn, okay. I see.”

We kept talking about all the different things that had happened. My fight with Ned the day after she went missing. The black lady who’d given me tissues in the grocery store. Jessie’s birthday party. All of it.

“Thanks for the ‘previously on’ segment, Jones.”

I laughed. “Anytime, Moon.”

“I’ll, uh, pay you back when you get kidnapped and miss a bunch of drama.”

“When? Not if?”

She winked, got up, and left.

Well, it had flair.

I walked home, sat down on the couch, gave Murphy a good belly rub, and turned on the TV.

“-the CEO of Oscorp, Norman Osborn, currently arguing with the police outside his home. It does look like the police have an arrest warrant, so it’s unclear why Mr. Osborn hasn’t been arrested yet-”

I stopped listening and called Harry. No answer. I texted the group chat. We all decided to head over there.

I got in my car, picking up Cindy on the way. It was hard to tell how she was feeling. She’d definitely put up some walls.

Peter, Ned, Jessie, and Miles were already there when Cindy arrived. Peter jogged over to my car when I parked.

“They’re gonna arrest him, MJ. We’re actually going to be safe,” he said as I got out of the car.

I looked over at Cindy as she got out. She was staring at Miles, but it wasn’t the way she normally looked at him. Usually, you didn’t even have to follow her gaze, because she looked like she was melting inside. But, today, she was staring blankly.

Peter slipped his hand into mine and the three of us walked over to the others. Miles started to move to stand next to Cindy and I, but Cindy went to stand with Jessie.

What was going on with her?

Miles stood next to me, eyes a little moist. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he let it be for a moment, before shrugging it off and moving to say something into my ear.

“Did I do something?”

I shrugged. “Give her time. This whole thing is probably throwing her off.”

He nodded, but still seemed uneasy.

Harry’s dad was quite clearly trying to talk his way out of arrest, and the police officers seemed quite uncomfortable. Maybe they were rookies, or big fans of him.

I watched as two other officers came up behind them, tapped them out, and grabbed Harry’s dad, threw him against the side of the house, and handcuffed. We could hear Mr. Osborn yelling from where we were.

“Harry’s in there,” I realized. “What happens to him when his dad goes to jail?”

“He’s got a lot of money saved,” Peter assured me. “He’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried about the money, Peter. I’m worried about him. That’s a big house to be alone in.”

He let go of my hand and pulled me into a hug. He was squeezing me tight, turning our bodies so I was protected. It took me a second to realize why.

_BANG_

A gunshot went off, and for a moment, I freaked out. I didn’t know who’d been shot. I didn’t know if one of my friends had been hurt.

A cop had pulled a gun on Harry’s dad and fired a warning shot into the side of the house to throw him off his guard and make it easier to get him into the police car.

Peter had seen him pull the gun and essentially shielded my body with his.

“Peter, what are you doing?” I pulled away, stepping back, a little shaken.

“Sorry, I just got scared for a moment.”

“You-you thought- were you completely willing to take a bullet for me?”

He didn’t say anything. He was just giving me big brown puppy eyes.

“Peter-”

“Listen, I’ve been a little on edge, and-”

“And you were about to become a human shield?”

“I-I-I didn’t know if the bullet would ricochet.”

My heart was absolutely pounding. Images of Peter getting shot in my arms flashed through my head _. His blood covering my hands. Watching the light leave his eyes_. My mind was taking me to the worst places.

“MJ, are you – are you angry?”

“No. God, no.” Horrible images kept flashing through my head. _Peter covered in blood. Having to feel his weight go limp against me._ My throat closed up, my mouth went dry.

“MJ.” Peter took my hand and dragged me away from the group. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I didn’t recognize my voice.

_Trying to put pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Getting Miles to call an ambulance._

“I freaked you out.”

“I just-” I had to stop talking. My voice was breaking and my nose tingled.

“What’s wrong?”

I had to take a deep breath and try to collect myself. “I just keep imagining you getting shot.” It came out low and soft, practically a whisper. I didn’t trust myself to speak louder.

“What?”

“I keep imagining you getting shot.”

Peter’s eye widened. “No, no no no no no,” he muttered, stepping closer and pulling me into his arms. “Don’t think about that. MJ, I’m fine.”

“You did get stabbed pretty recently,” I pointed out.

He grabbed me by the wrist and guided my hand under his shirt to the spot the wound had been. It was like nothing had ever happened. “I’m okay, love. I’m okay.”

I slid my hand around to his back and squeezed him closer to me. I realized I was already crying. I hadn’t even noticed.

After a moment, I pulled away, wiping my tears away. “I’m gonna ask if we’re allowed to go in and talk to Harry.”

“MJ-”

“I’m fine, Peter. Um, thanks, by the way.”

“Thanks?”

“For, um, protecting me like that.”

He had this hint of a smile on his face. “Of course.”

I’m not gonna lie, that scared me. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t do the same in a heartbeat, for any of my friends. But it terrified me, coming from Peter.

_Watching him stumble and fall to the ground. Blood pooling. His face paling._

I walked over to one of the officers. I realized I recognized him.

“Detective Boone!”

He turned, smiling kindly when he recognized me. “Ms. Jones.”

“I was wondering if I could go in and talk to my friend. He’s still in there.”

“What’s his name?”

“Harry Osborn. He’s Norman Osborn’s son.”

Detective Boone frowned, then said something into his radio, listened to the reply, and then turned to me. “They’re searching the house and questioning him, but once we get the all-clear you can go in, as long as Mr. Osborn agrees.”

“Thanks.”

I walked back over to the group. Miles was staring at the ground, kicking pebbles. Cindy was staring blankly at the bullet embedded in the side of the house. Jessie and Ned were gripping each other’s hands tightly. Peter was looking at me.

“What’d he say?” Peter asked.

“We gotta wait outside for a bit, but we should be able to go in soon.”

“Have you been crying?” Ned blurted. He seemed to realize what he said. “You just look- your nose is a little pink- sorry.”

I ignored it and stood with Peter. He positioned himself behind me, putting his chin on my shoulder and wrapping his arms around my waist.

We all stood in silence, waiting to be allowed into Harry’s place.

“Ms. Jones?”

“Over here!” I called back.

The detective gave us a thumbs-up. “You can go in! Just be careful to stay out of the way of Forensics.”

“Got it!”

Peter let go of my waist and we all started walking up to the house. Harry must’ve seen us from a window and met us at the front door.

“Come in, guys,” he said, significantly more mellow than usual.

We all sat at the kitchen island, talking softly. We made arrangements for Harry to stay with me for a couple days, since they’d still be doing forensics in his house and he didn’t want to be alone, anyways. Peter offered to stay over, too, and we figured the three of us would have a good time, so Harry agreed. He went upstairs and quickly packed a bag, and then we headed back to my car. Cindy hitched a ride home with Jessie and Ned. Peter drove Miles home and then went to his place to pack an overnight bag. Harry and I headed back to my place.

The second we got into my car, Harry relaxed. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I am so fucking relieved they arrested that asshole. I hope he’s found guilty when this goes to trial.” He let his head fall back against the headrest. “I’ve spent the last few days worried for my life.”

“No, that’s fair. A hundred percent. He held one of our friends captive in your own house. You have every right to wish that on him.”

Harry sighed. “I was so scared. For days.”

I looked over at him. I’d never seen him so unraveled. He was always so put together. Meticulously. Tonight, his hair was unruly and sticking up in fourteen different directions. His shirt was wrinkled and stained. He had bags under his eyes that were sunken and blueish-purple.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. “I missed everybody. It’s so lonely in that house.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. This whole situation- I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything the whole way home.

When we got back to my place, I made some hot chocolate. Not the cheap, powdered stuff. I made it on the stove with condensed milk and cocoa powder and the whole shebang. I didn’t hold back on the sugar content. We ~~probably~~ all deserved it.

Peter got in half an hour later, tossing his backpack in my room and picking up a mug of hot chocolate, fresh off the stove.

I shook the panicked feeling from earlier. Like I was going to lose him. He was fine. He was sitting with Harry and joking and we were all drinking hot chocolate and things were fine. Everything was okay again. Not _everything_ everything, because Cindy clearly wasn’t okay, but we were safe again.

“You good, Jones?”

I nodded. “I’m fine, Osborn. Just, you know, wild night.”

“Not the fun kind of wild,” he said, winking.

I took a sip of my hot chocolate, avoiding eye contact with Peter, because I knew he’d just go along with it, and we all knew where that landed us. Every. Single. Time.

“Should we make a fort?” I suggested. “We can face the TV and watch movies.”

“Sounds good to me.”

We put our hot chocolates on the coffee table and got to work. Peter and Harry disassembled the couch to get the pillow part of the pillow fort set up. I went into the blanket closet and got some sheets to cover the fort and then some blankets for us to sleep under in the fort. I grabbed a couple pillows while I was at it.

Our pillow fort was built in ten minutes, and was (thankfully) plenty spacious for the three of us. We put on _Clueless_ and got settled in. I put my head on Peter’s chest, and I was perfectly alert, except that within five minutes I’d finished my hot chocolate, leaving that pleasant warm feeling in my stomach. On top of that, Peter started playing with my hair and giving me a head rub. Before I knew it, I was dozing off.


	13. When Things Look Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your patience. I know I've been slow getting the last few chapters up but hopefully I'll be able to get the next couple up fairly quickly.  
> Also, just so y'all are prepared, I start school in a couple weeks and while my course load this year is relatively light and I have spares I can use, it's also my senior year and I'll probably be focused more on schoolwork than this fic. So I'm gonna try to get up to date with this fic before then and then hopefully chapters will roll out weekly. Just to keep y'all informed.  
> Anyways, the songs for this chapter are 61-65. Enjoy!

_Peter was hugging me, protecting me. I didn’t realize until too late what was happening._

_The bullet ricocheted off a column. For a moment, it was unclear where it went, but then I felt Peter’s body tense._

_“No, no no no no no no no.” I realized what had happened. Peter’s weight fell against me, and I struggled to hold him up. I looked up, hoping Miles or Harry or Ned or anybody would help but they were gone. Poof._

_“MJ.” His voice was raspy and distorted._

_Blood covered both of us. I looked at him, watching the colour drain from his face, leaving him ghostly white._

_I managed to lay him down, keeping him across my knees and in my arms, trying to apply pressure and stop the bleeding._

_It wouldn’t work. He’d been shot in the spine. He had moments left, and nobody was coming. Nobody._

_“I can’t feel my legs,” he whispered, tears falling down his face. “I can’t feel anything.”_

_“Please, don’t go. You can’t go. I told you I can’t lose you.”_

_He reached up and touched my face, hand shaking, running his thumb over my lips. “I can’t feel you.” There was clear panic on his face. “Help me, MJ. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna leave you.” He wasn’t breathing. God, he wasn’t breathing. “I don’t want to die,” he choked out. I couldn’t save him. I failed him._

_His eyes glazed over, his hand dropping to his chest, muscles relaxing._

_“Peter, Peter! Don’t. Please, don’t. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t-”_

**July 31 st **

“MJ,” Peter said softly.

I gasped, grabbing his shirt in fistfuls. The second I realized he was alive, breathing, right here, I relaxed.

It was just a dream. He was okay.

“Hi. Morning.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Peter didn’t look like he believed me, which was fair, because I was lying through my teeth, but he didn’t say anything. Likely because Harry was sitting two feet away, on his phone.

Images from the dream flashed through my head in gory detail. _Dark red blood staining my clothes. Peter’s pale, shaking hand touching my face. “I can’t feel anything. I can’t feel you.”_

There was this heavy feeling in my stomach. Guilt. Heavy and twisty and gross. Because if that bullet had glanced off of something, if it’d hit Peter, he’d die protecting me.

I didn’t know if that was something I could live with.

But, thankfully, nobody had gotten shot last night. It was just a bad night. That was all.

I couldn’t shake the feeling.

“What do you guys want for breakfast?” I sat up and stretched.

Harry shrugged. Peter smiled sheepishly.

“Can you make pancakes? You make really good pancakes.”

I smiled. “Yeah, of course.” I crawled out of the fort and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put in my contact lenses, then headed into the kitchen and whipped up some batter. Peter followed me into the kitchen like a puppy, and I didn’t think he’d interfere at all, but I put down my whisk to get a pan to cook the pancakes on and he intercepted, picking me up by the waist, sitting me down on the counter.

“What was bothering you so much earlier?”

I tried to jump down, but he gripped me tighter, holding me firmly in place.

God, this would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t worry about it-”

“Too bad. I am worried. Tell me what’s going on, MJ.”

I let out a breath. I tried to separate myself, take a step back, not worry about any of the actual emotions attached to…that. But I couldn’t. It was Peter. How could I separate my emotions from Peter?

“I just had a nightmare. It’s fine.”

He glared at me, beating me into submission.

“I dreamt you got shot. I watched you die in my arms. It was so _vivid_ , Peter.”

His eyes were wide now, full of horror and sadness. “MJ, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I scared you last night.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He pulled me closer and kissed me.

“Can’t you guys get a room? Just once in a while?” Harry complained.

I was going to pull away, but Peter wouldn’t let me. I felt one of his hands leave my waist, and Harry immediately started laughing.

“Really, Parker? Since when do you flip people off?”

I laughed, pulling away. Peter was definitely giving him the finger, but dropped it once the kiss was broken.

“Okay, let me finish the pancakes.”

“Yeah, Parker, let her feed us. Jesus Christ, it’s like you don’t know what’s good for you,” Harry teased.

“Oh, fuck off, Osborn.”

“Damn, babe. Claws out.” I jumped off the counter, batting him away playfully as he tried to wrap his arms around me again. I gave in, letting him slide his arms around my waist and rest his chin on my shoulder. I looked at Harry, defeated. “Every single time. Can you imagine if we lived together? I’d never get anything done.”

Harry laughed. “That’s why I stay single.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can you get a pan out of that cabinet?” I asked, pointing. “And some butter out of the fridge.”

Harry looked like he was going to play hard to get, but then he seemed to realize that I had control over his food, so he got the pan and butter and leaned against the counter, silent.

I heated up the pan and buttered it, careful not to elbow Peter in the ribs as I went.

“You’re taking forever,” Harry whined.

“Tell Peter to get off of me and it’ll go much quicker.”

Peter laughed, kissing my cheek. “Good luck convincing me.”

I started making the pancakes, and Harry stole the first three, sticking his tongue out at Peter. Peter stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

I was spending all my time with idiots. I loved every second of it.

When the pancakes were done, I made them sit at the table and eat, instead of just standing around the kitchen. Murphy came and sat under the table, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to get any scraps from me, but he might from one of the boys.

“Don’t give him any food,” I instructed, glaring at Harry, who was already tearing off a chunk of pancake.

“But he’s a good boy!”

“Harry, my mom and I are trying so hard to keep him well trained. If you’re gonna give him food, at least make him do a trick first.”

“What does he know?”

“Sit, lie down, roll over, play dead, shake a paw. The basics.”

Murphy stared at Harry, head cocked.

“Okay, Murph. Play dead.”

Murphy dropped, stone cold, limbs stiff, tongue lolling out. I couldn’t help but be proud. After a few seconds, he broke, getting back up and putting his front paws on Harry’s leg, begging for a treat.

Harry laughed, giving him a chunk of pancake. Murphy practically swallowed it whole.

“You could put him in movies,” Harry told me, still smiling at Murphy.

“Please, and let all of that attention go to his head? Nah.”

Peter snorted, then coughed.

“Are you okay?” I giggled.

“Yeah, just stupid.”

I laughed, my forehead falling onto his shoulder. “You’re not stupid.”

“Today I am. Ugh, that pancake-lodged-in-your-throat feeling is not my favourite.”

We finished our pancakes, and I put the dishes in the dishwasher.

“You guys alright here if I take Murph on a quick walk?” I asked. Murphy immediately came over to the door, so I started to put on my shoes and grabbed a light sweater.

“I could come with you,” Peter offered.

“Nah, it’s alright. It’s gonna be a ten minute walk, and Murphy gets distracted if other people come along. You guys good here?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I know where you guys keep the snacks and alcohol so I’m good to go.”

I laughed, clipping Murphy’s leash onto his collar and grabbing some plastic bags. “Sounds good. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Peter ran over and grabbed my face with both hands, kissing me quickly. “Incentive,” he whispered, pulling away.

I laughed. Harry groaned.

“I’ll see you soon. Don’t burn the place down.”

I headed out, carrying Murphy downstairs and then just taking him on a quick walk around the block. We were gone for maybe ten minutes, and when I got back, the boys were putting on a full-blown concert. They’d found my Bluetooth speaker and were blasting music and dancing, DJ-ing, singing, the whole nine yards. I unclipped Murphy’s collar, laughing.

“So, is this why everyone always tries to prevent you two from being alone together?”

“Yep!” Harry shouted over the music.

“MJ!”

Apparently, Peter hadn’t noticed me come in until that moment. He dropped the remote he was using as a microphone and ran over to me, pinning me to the door, kissing me hard. I let out an audible “mmph!” as he attacked me.

“Jesus, Peter, her room is three feet away.”

I laughed, muffled against his lips. He broke the kiss, kissing my forehead instead.

“I swear, it’s like he’s a puppy and you’re his owner,” Harry quipped, turning the music off and sitting down.

“I’m not complaining.” I went and sat down with Harry, picking up the remote Peter dropped. Peter came and sat next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Ooh, we could watch _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ ,” Harry suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Peter said.

“ _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ it is.”

I set up the show and we binged for a few hours. We ended up going for dinner with the whole gang at some Indian restaurant. Cindy, Miles, Liz, and I were the only ones who could handle the spice. Peter went through three glasses of water, Ned teared up a few times, Jessie coughed up both of her lungs, and Harry gave up halfway through his samosas.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Liz goaded, taking a bite out of Harry’s samosa.

“It’s hot as hell, Liz!” Ned whined, rubbing his eyes. “How do you do it? Have you no taste buds?”

“I’m with Ned,” Jess mumbled, letting her tongue hang out of her mouth. “It’s hot.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s because we’re white, Ned.” He took another gulp of water. I winced. He needed milk, not water, but he wouldn’t believe me.

“Peter, at least try my lassi,” I pleaded, sliding my glass towards him. “It’ll help with the spice more than water will.”

He scrunched his nose. “But it’s mango.”

“What do you have against mango?” Cindy asked.

“He doesn’t like it because sometimes it’s sour,” I explained. “Peter, just try it. It tastes just fine and it’ll help with the spice.”

He hesitated, but his face was slowly turning red from the spice, so he took the lassi, sipping tenderly. “Oh, it’s good.”

“I told you,” I said, finishing my butter chicken. “Drink the rest. You need it more than I do.”

“Why don’t we get this kind of treatment?” Harry whined.

Ned chimed in. “Yeah, this isn’t fair.”

“Shouldn’t we all get some lassi?” Jessie added, trying to appeal to my sense of equity.

“I don’t know, guys, Peter’s the one who sleeps with me, so…”

Ned choked, Harry smirked, and Jessie gave me a suggestive wink.

Peter didn’t say anything, just chugged the last of my lassi. “Yeah, that helped.”

I laughed. “I’m glad.”

He leaned, kissing me, and then jumped back. “Your lips are spicy.”

The whole table burst out laughing.

“Sorry,” I apologized, licking them off. “I’ll brush my teeth when we get back to my place.”

“I’m stealing her toothbrush when we get back,” Harry said, “because they just make out incessantly.”

“We’ve kissed, like, three times around you,” Peter protested.

“Four, counting that last one.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “At least go into MJ’s room.”

“Well, then, I hope you have ear plugs with you,” I shot back.

There was a chorus of “ohhhh”s from the table as Harry jokingly scowled.

“Or,” Peter teased, “he could just join us.”

That got an even louder chorus of “ohhhhh”s from the peanut gallery.

Harry still didn’t blush. Harry never blushed. He just winked and finished his food.

From there, we all paid our bills and split off to go home. Harry demanded shotgun in my car.

“Third-wheeling you guys is painful. My single ass needs a break.”

We laughed it off, and just drove home. I was ready to collapse into bed and just sleep it off, but Harry and Peter were being typical, loud teenage boys. They found the popcorn in the cupboard and started popping some, then set up _Die Hard._

“I’m tired,” I whined, stealing a piece of popcorn from Harry’s bowl.

“You don’t have to watch the movie,” Peter said, “you just gotta spend time with us.”

“But-”

“Just sit around and pet Murphy,” Harry interrupted. “It’s no fun for us if you’re just in your room.”

“Okay, but consider this. Sleep.”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?” Peter pleaded, giving me puppy eyes. How could anybody resist those big, brown, sparkly eyes?

I sighed. “Fine. But don’t wake me up if I fall asleep.”

“I’ll wake you up when we’re heading to bed so you can wash your face, how’s that?”

I stared at him. A boy? Caring about my skincare? “I think you’re my soulmate.”

He laughed, cheeks turning a very cute shade of pink.

We all got settled on the couch. I put my head on Peter’s shoulder, idly petting Murphy once he jumped into my lap. I was asleep before the “yippie ki yay motherfuckers” line.

I woke up a couple hours later. The boys were watching a Bo Burnham special, so I sat up and watched with them.

“What time is it?”

“Just after ten,” Harry told me.

“Alright, I can deal with that.”

“How’d you sleep?” Peter asked.

“Pretty good. My neck’s a little sore, but that’ll work itself out by morning.” I blinked some of the sleepy fog out of my eyes and focused on the special.

We ended up staying up until three in the morning, just watching comedy specials and more Brooklyn Nine-Nine. And then Peter and I collapsed in my bed and Harry took the couch.

Sometimes it felt like as long as I had Peter, nothing else could hurt me. Up until last night, that had been comforting. Now, it stirred up this worry in my chest, making it harder to fall asleep.

“Peter?” I whispered.

“Mhm?”

“Can you play with my hair?”

He paused. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks.”

He started running his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax. A few minutes passed, and I still couldn’t force myself into that relaxed state.

Suddenly, he stopped, and gently pushed me off his chest.

“Okay, tell me about the nightmare you had last night.”

“What?”

“You’ve been off all day, and now you’re just…tense.”

“Peter, I’m fine.” I moved to go put my head back on his chest, but he sat up, stopping me cold.

“No, you’re not. Just tell me.”

“Peter, I don’t really want to relive it.”

“You lost enough sleep when we fought. You’re not losing anymore because of me.”

His voice was firm, but his face was soft, sad, heartbroken.

“Okay. Okay.” He stared at me, expectant. “It was like it was last night, at Harry’s, but when the gunshot went off, the bullet hit a column and ricocheted and hit you. And-and I looked up to ask someone for help, because you were literally dying in my arms, and everyone was just…gone.” My breathing was irregular. I was either about to start crying or have a full on panic attack. I stopped, calmed my breathing, and kept going. “So, I, um, I put you down, but you were kind of on me, and you said that-” My voice broke, and I started to cry.

“What did I say? MJ, please.”

“You said you couldn’t feel. At first you couldn’t feel your legs, then you couldn’t feel anything, then you touched my face and told me you couldn’t feel me, either. You said you didn’t want to die. And then-and then you did, and I failed you, because I couldn’t save you.”

I got up and paced, crying and trying to act like I wasn’t crying.

“MJ, stop. MJ, what are you- stop!”

Peter had jumped up and grabbed me, too fast. I flinched, and then cried harder.

He didn’t ask questions, thank God. He just hugged me as tight as he could.

I cried myself to sleep that night. Peter just held me, kissing the top of my head every once in a while, whispering, “I love you,” into my ear when I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. That was the first night he witnessed a full-on breakdown. That was the first night I didn’t hold it together at least a little bit. Where I didn’t mask it with anger or alcohol. That was the first night I fully trusted him, and I think he knew it. He didn’t crack any jokes or walk out on me. He stayed until I fell asleep, and he was still there in the morning.

**August 1 st **

I woke up before Peter did. He still had his arms wrapped around me, his face was still buried in my hair.

I had a pounding headache, so I slowly rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Peter, and went into the kitchen. I took a painkiller and stared at the clock, not even registering the time.

Coffee. I needed coffee.

The boys probably would, too.

I brushed my teeth, popped in some contact lenses, threw on a sweater and some shorts, left a note on the counter, and headed out to get some iced coffees.

Halfway to the Starbucks, my phone started buzzing like crazy. I pulled over and looked at my notifications.

Peter: Where are you??

Peter: I woke up and you’re gone

Peter: MJ what the hell is going on????

Peter: I’m sorry if I scared you please come back

Peter: …I found the note.

Peter: oops.

Peter: ask for my iced coffee with extra ice please

Despite myself, I laughed.

Me: peter you’re sweet when you’re worried

Me: I’ll get you extra sugar packets too

Me: love you see you in a bit

I put my phone down and pulled back onto the road. I went through the Starbucks drive-thru, got three iced coffees (one with extra ice and sugar packets), and drove home. When I walked in the door, I barely had time to put the coffees down before Peter hugged me.

“Hi. Morning. Sorry I freaked you out,” I told him.

“You should be sorry,” Harry said. “I had to deal with his panicky ass.”

“Oh, screw you, Osborn.” Peter pulled away from me and flipped him off. “I thought I’d scared her off or something.”

“Yeah, if Peter had cried himself to sleep last night, and then disappeared in the morning, I’d be freaking out, too.”

Harry hesitated. “You cried yourself to sleep last night? I thought you guys were gonna have sex or something. I had headphones in and everything.”

I laughed. “That does sound more likely, doesn’t it?”

Harry’s snarky exterior had dropped. “You okay, Jones?”

I nodded. “Just had a moment. I’m all good.” I picked up my coffee and sat down on the couch. “I’d kill for a good head rub right now, though. I have such a bad headache and Tylenol is the most useless painkiller on the planet.”

Peter grabbed his coffee and sat down next to me. “Put your head in my lap, then.”

Harry’s snark was turned back on. “Come on, guys, in the middle of the living room?”

I flipped him off, rolling my eyes. I put my coffee on the coffee table and laid down, positioning my head in Peter’s lap. I was on my side, facing the TV.

“Harry, can you turn on _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ or something?”

“Sure.”

Harry turned on the TV and sat down next to Peter and I, coffee in hand.

Peter buried his hands in my hair, massaging my scalp. I closed my eyes, just relaxing. The massage wasn’t necessarily helping with the headache, but it definitely still felt good.

“You’re gonna fall asleep, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” I admitted. “You give good scalp massages. It’s not my fault.”

Harry groaned. “You two are sickeningly cute. Stop reminding me of how single I am.”

“Oh, please, Harry. If you wanted to, you could date any girl at Midtown. Just talk about English boarding schools and put on the kicked-puppy look when you talk about your dad and _boom_. You’ve got four girls on each arm.”

Harry laughed. “If only it were that easy.”

“It is! Girls love you, you just never pay any goddamn attention.”

“You’re just too clueless, Osborn.”

“Shut it, Parker. How long did it take you and Jones here to figure out how you felt about each other?”

I laughed. “The problem wasn’t figuring out how we felt about each other. We told each other how we felt like a month before we started dating, because I’m the dumbass who said I didn’t want things to change.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t your smartest moment,” Peter chuckled.

“I had a lot of stupid moments around then. Like hitting on you when we were drunk. Or almost kissing you at the gala. A whole bunch of things, really. I’m pretty dumb.”

“I don’t think you’re pretty dumb. You are pretty, though.”

Harry made a gagging sound.

“You’re just jealous, Osborn.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Just watch the show, you two.”

The moment the conversation died and all I was focused on was the scalp massage I was getting from Peter, I got drowsy. It probably didn’t help that I’d gotten maybe four hours of sleep.

Before I knew it, I was waking up to a quiet living room. I groaned, sitting up.

“Harry left to go deal with some stuff at home. How’re you feeling?”

I rubbed my eyes. “Groggy.” I flopped back into his lap, staring up at the ceiling. “I really don’t know how to stay awake during your head rubs, do I?”

He laughed. “Nope. It’s cute, though.” He slipped his hand under my head and started massaging.

“Peter, I’m just gonna fall back asleep, and then I won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then I’m gonna be grumpy tomorrow.”

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy, too.”

I didn’t have the energy to sit back up. I just groaned again, closing my eyes.

“If I stop, can I take you out for dinner?”

I laughed. “Why would I say no?”

He helped me sit up, then pulled me into his lap and kissed me. It was kinda nice that Harry had left, just because there was nobody making sex jokes the whole time.

I pulled away. “What time is it?”

He pulled out his phone. “It’s five-thirty.”

“Okay, so if you give me, like, twenty minutes to fix my hair and change into something presentable, we can go for dinner.”

“Sounds good. Do what you gotta do.”

I planted one more kiss on his cheek, then got up and went into my room. I changed into a casual dress, threw my hair up in a bun, and then went into the bathroom to wash my face and put on some lip gloss.

“I’m good to go.”

“That was quick,” Peter remarked, getting off the couch.

I adjusted my bra strap, so it wasn’t sliding off my shoulder. “Well, I don’t look great, but that’s the price you pay for a speedy nap recovery sometimes.”

“That’s bull, you look amazing.”

I rolled my eyes. “You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.”

“I don’t have to say anything. You’re beautiful, MJ.”

I smiled. “I should probably just take the compliment, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah. Geez. Just say thanks and then kiss me and we can go,” he teased.

I grinned. “Thanks.” I stepped closed and kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer and pressing my body to his. He did that cute thing where he hummed as I kissed him. It was meant to be a short, sweet kiss, but it was starting to turn into something a little more heated. Eventually, I broke the kiss, leaning back, keeping my arms wrapped around him. “La Marinara?”

He had this small smile on his lips. “Well, now I just wanna stay here and-”

“Peter, you made me get dressed for this.”

He pulled me close again, pressing his forehead to mine. “I know, but now I’m looking at you and thinking that dress would maybe look better on the floor.”

I laughed, and kissed him. “We’re going for dinner first. You made me get up for this, so we’re going.”

“You said dinner first. Does that mean that afterwards…?”

“That sounds good to me,” I said, pulling myself out of his arms.

We left, taking his car and driving to La Marinara. We blasted Chasing Cars, singing as obnoxiously as we could.

Being in love with him was the best feeling. It hurt sometimes, and when it hurt, it hurt bone-deep. But it was worth it, for the pure happiness. For seeing him smile, feeling his hands on my waist when he kissed me, hearing his voice over the phone at midnight, singing obnoxiously in his car. It was worth it, without a doubt in my mind. I never wanted it to end.

We pulled into the restaurant parking lot and went in. There was a short wait to get in, since it was six and everyone was eating dinner, but we got in and got seated.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, that was before we started dating. I remember that night. I had to cheer you up in the car because you were all weird when we left.”

He blushed, chuckling awkwardly.

“Peter?”

“It’s funny, why I was upset.”

“Why?”

“Well, I think upset’s the wrong word. I was just kind of…speechless. I-I don’t know, I just remember seeing you open the door, and you looked so beautiful, and it just kind of threw me off for a while.”

I chewed on my tongue. That habit really wasn’t going away, huh? “That’s so sweet, Peter.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m so lucky I have you.”

“I’m lucky to have you, too,” he said, smiling. We held hands in the middle of the table.

Dinner was nice. It was cute and cozy and I got to have the best pasta on Earth with the best boyfriend on Earth. We talked, keeping away from the tougher topics, like how hot and cold Cindy was being with Miles, or how hard it could get for Harry in the next few months. At some point, we were talking about the problems with time travel, and then the conversation shifted to what things would have been like if we’d discovered clean energy before fossil fuels, and what things might’ve been like if Neanderthals hadn’t gone extinct and instead co-existed with us now, and it kept going like that all through dinner.

Part of what I loved about Peter was that it was really easy to have weird conversations like that. It wasn’t forced or anything, we both just huge nerds who knew a lot about things that would never be useful to us, and it resulted in some really great dinner conversations. We could go on and on for hours. It was amazing.

It was also really great that we could throw out IQs out the window and scream bad pop songs at the top of our lungs the whole drive back to my place. Which we did.

When he pulled back into the visitor parking lot by my building, he hesitated to get out.

“Peter, are you coming back in?”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

“Peter?”

“I probably shouldn’t stay another night. Aunt May’s already been texting me like crazy telling me she misses me.”

“You don’t have to stay over, babe.”

“Then why would I-”

“So you can see how my dress looks on the bedroom floor.”

He put two and two together, and then smiled. “You did kind of promise that, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Now, don’t make me a liar. Come upstairs.”

“Okay.”

I think we both agreed that the dress was better on the bedroom floor.

After Peter went home, I took a shower, and when I got out of the shower, I had a voicemail from my dad.

“Hey, Michelle, I was hoping you’d be up for going to dinner with me tomorrow night. I know we haven’t talked in a while, and I was a bit of a jerk last time, but the allowance offer still stands, and I won’t push the ‘family business’ spiel on you again. Call me back, honey. Bye.”

 I thought about it. $100 a week and no family business spiel. It wasn’t the worst offer. I called him back.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, honey, did you get my message?”

“Yeah. What time tomorrow?”

**August 3 rd **

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, once we started talking about art, we got along super well,” I told Peter, holding my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I made myself some ramen.

“It’s good that you’re getting along with your dad.”

“I’m weirdly excited about it. It doesn’t feel normal. It feels like I can actually talk to him now, since he knows something about me that he doesn’t want to change.”

“I think that’s how you’re supposed to feel, MJ.”

“Yeah, well, it’s new, okay? I can never talk to my mom about my art because she just doesn’t understand it enough to care. To her, it’s just paint pencil blah blah blah. He understands. It’s amazing.”

“I can’t believe your gun-toting, conservative, NRA-supporting dad used to want to be a storyboarder. That doesn’t seem like him at all.”

“I was surprised, too. But it was amazing. I actually had an engaging conversation with him, instead of just arguing politics all through dinner.” I took my ramen out of the microwave and started eating it with a fork. “The only thing that makes me nervous is how my mom is going to react to us getting along.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean, he was her high school sweetheart, right? Knocked her up, told her he didn’t want a family, then went off and started a family immediately afterwards. She’s not a huge fan of him.”

“Yeah, but she’s fine with you going out to dinner with him. She doesn’t seem to have a huge problem with the whole thing.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she likes it, but she doesn’t want to stop me from getting to know him. Like, she feels like she’d be obstructing my ‘self-discovery’ or something like that.”

Peter sighed. It had that weird, distorted phone quality. I wanted to tell him to come over and spend the night, but I knew I shouldn’t. I already sucked up most of his time.

“Anyways, I’ve been talking about how dinner went yesterday for, like, forty minutes. Tell me what’s up with you, babe.”

“I haven’t done much of anything. I’ve mostly been sitting at home with May and Thwip.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. That sounds like heaven.”

“Well, it sucks because I haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

I groaned. “We’ve become that gross, clingy couple that can’t go two minutes without talking.”

I could hear his smile when he spoke. “Let me miss you, okay? We’ve barely talked since we went to dinner the other night.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Man, I’d had this ramen for two minutes and I was already down to the last few bites.

“It feels later than it is,” Peter said, kind of absentmindedly. “It feels like it’s almost two in the morning or something.”

“Have you been doing internship stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“That probably tired you out.”

“Yeah.”

“You sound tired.”

“Thanks, MJ.”

I laughed. “I don’t mean that to be insulting. You’re just normally a little more chipper when we talk.”

“Chipper?”

“I said what I said.”

He laughed. Again, it was distorted by the phone. I wished I could hear him laugh in person right now.

“I miss you.”

“Weren’t you just saying that we’re too clingy?”

“We are. Let me miss my boyfriend.”

“Let me miss my girlfriend,” he countered. I could hear the smile in his voice again. I wondered if he could hear it in mine.

“Touché.”

“You know, if you miss me that much, I could just come over.”

“No, you should stay at home. I stole you away for a couple nights this week. If I keep doing that, May’s gonna get all sad.”

“She already makes jokes about me moving in with you.”

I laughed. “Well, half of your clothes are in my closet, you have a spare toothbrush here, and you have a key. They might not be jokes, babe.”

“Fair enough.”

We stayed on the phone until eventually he fell asleep. I hung up, sent him a goodnight text, and then went to bed.

**August 5 th **

I woke up with this weird burst of energy and inspiration. I pulled my old keyboard out of storage, cleaned it off, and pulled all my old music out of my closet. I spent a few hours reteaching myself as much of the music as I could.

At some point, I got a notification that Cindy had posted on Instagram. I knew that Miles was with her, so I figured it’d be some cute, couple-y thing, but it was a very vague post. The caption read, “Funny story: people think they know me.”

I texted Miles, asking if everything was okay. He started talking about how Cindy had blown up at him, and I told him to come over with his guitar for some musical therapy.

He showed up twenty minutes later with iced coffees and his guitar.

I sat him down on the couch.

“Spill.”

“I don’t know, Jones. I walked in, told her I wanted to make sure she was safe and everything, because I’ve been really worried about her, and she just…screamed at me. She told me she didn’t want to be treated like a baby by everyone around her. But aren’t we all on edge? She was kidnapped. Her kidnapper was _just_ arrested. I’m scared for her.”

“Yeah, no, that makes sense. Of course you want to protect her, we all do. I don’t know why she’d blow up at you, of all people.”

“It’s weird. She was so hot and cold for a minute there. One moment, we’d be hanging out, eating pizza, watching movies. The next, she acted like she’s never met me.”

“She did go through a lot, Miles. We still don’t know what happened to her in there. I think she just needs time to heal,” I said. “And therapy. She should probably be in therapy, but I’m gonna let her figure that out for herself, because she won’t listen to me.”

Miles chuckled. “No, she won’t.”

“Come on, let’s jam out. You look like you need it.”

I led him into my room. He sat down on the window seat, pulling his guitar out of its case. I sat down at the keyboard, waiting as he strummed the strings of his guitar to make sure it was still in tune.

“I actually had the chord progression stuck in my head that I felt like I needed to get out,” Miles said.

“Guess we’re doing some song writing, then. Lemme grab my notebook.” I got up, grabbing a new notebook and a pen off of my desk. I sat back down. “What are the chords?”

“Okay, it’s, um, a D major, an A major, a B minor, and a G major.” He strummed them out quickly on his guitar. “I just can’t think of a melody.”

I played the chords on the keyboard. “I’m assuming it’s four-four time?”

“Yeah.”

I played the chords a couple times, and a melody started to develop in my head. I hummed it, and Miles nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

We kept building on that melody, but we still didn’t have any words.

“Hold on.”

I took my hands off the keyboard and stared at Miles. He strummed out the chords, and started to sing.

“It’s been a while since you last hugged me. It’s been a while since I saw you smile. It’s been so long since you let me in. You changed all the locks and stole my old spare key.”

He stopped strumming and looked up at me, all big, sad eyes.

“Yeah, that’s good. It feels right.”

“I agree.”

He took the notebook and started scribbling down his lyrics. While he did that, I put my fingers back on the keys.

“Please don’t go. I love you so. Please don’t leave, without me. And I’ve never felt so alone…” My voice trailed off.

“You don’t pick up the phone,” he added, writing that down, too.

“Please don’t go, no.”

He stared at the paper. “That’s a pretty solid start.”

We kept going, but nothing we wrote for that song after that felt authentic, so we moved on. We wrote two other songs that night, both about Cindy. Miles and I struggled to stay in time with each other at the beginning, but by the end, we were synced up perfectly. We recorded the three (well, two and a half) songs on our phones, so we could remember our melodies and harmonies and all the little riffs we threw in.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we started a band?” I joked as he was packing up his guitar.

“Ooh, girl, nobody’s got time for that.”

We laughed it off.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, MJ. And, you know, the musical therapy.”

“Of course, bro. Anytime.”

He gave me a hug, then headed out, giving Murphy a good scratch behind the ears before he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one last thing - the song Miles and MJ write in the chapter is an actual song that I've written, so when I get the chance I'll record it and put it up on my IGTV (@mj.aka.michellejones)


	14. Expo Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter KILLED me because there's no angst and idk how to write stuff that isn't super emotional? Anyways that's an issue I'll bring up with a school counsellor at some point.  
> @itslizzyallan (MY BEST FRIEND I LOVE HER SO MUCH) did the playlist for the chapter bc she's the best person alive. The songs for this chapter are 66-74

**August 8 th **

It was Day 3 of the Stark Expo. I was going every day, because Peter was going every day, so the whole affair was essentially an excuse for me to get all dressed up before I followed Peter around like an awkward puppy all night. Six days of following Peter around and watching him give speeches about education and it’s importance in our society. And Tony trying to convince me to get drunk with him.

Peter had gotten pulled away by some important old white man, so I was wandering around with no real aim. A couple other friends were hanging around that night, and I was hoping desperately that I’d run into them soon, because getting lost in the big Expo didn’t seem ideal to me. Yeah, I had my phone on me, but I still didn’t find the idea of wandering around alone all night super exciting.

Eventually, I found Miles. He was talking to some other guy I’d never seen before, with curly hair and a very colourful suit.

“Miles!” I shouted, heading over. “Sorry to interrupt. Peter ditched me and I didn’t want to wander around alone.”

“Of course, sis. Connor, this is MJ. MJ, this is my new friend, Connor.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise.” He seemed really kind right off the bat. “You go to Midtown Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I just moved to Queens and that’s where I’m going for senior year.”

“Oh, well, now you’ve got a couple friendly faces. You know, for those first couple days when you don’t know who to sit with at lunch.”

Connor smiled. “Why, thank you.”

“MJ, he plays bass,” Miles interjected. “We might end up a song writing trio.”

“Oh, shit, that’s cool! I begged my mom to buy me a bass guitar when I was, like, fourteen. But, yeah, we should all have a music therapy session sometime.”

“That would be so fun,” Connor said. “I’ve never had other friends who played instruments.”

“What? Where did you move from?”

“Wisconsin.”

“Major upgrade, man,” Miles said. “New York has way more culture.”

Connor laughed. “No kidding. I’ve been in town a month and I’ve had more fun than I’ve had my whole life.”

I turned to Miles. “We should introduce Connor to Harry!” I turned back to Connor. “Harry’s one of our other friends. He’s also going to Midtown for senior year. You guys might get along really well.”

“Might?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. I definitely got a gay vibe off of him.

“Well, um, Harry has a tendency to be a little closed off at first. As long as you’re alright with dealing with a little frostiness for a bit, you’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go find him.”

Miles shrugged. “You’ll be a-okay. Harry’s a sweetheart under all the snark.”

We found Harry outside a tent where a talk had just ended. We introduced him to Connor, and I noticed he wasn’t cold to him like he normally was to strangers. They hit it off really well.

The four of us stood around and chatted for a while, then exchanged numbers and social media. Connor split off, then Harry a few minutes later, and Miles and I stuck together for a while.

“Did you get a bit of a gay vibe off of him?” Miles asked.

I laughed. “A bit? I got a huge gay vibe off of him. I think the suit seals the deal.”

“Yeah, probably. So, when did you lose Peter?”

“Oh, a good hour and a half ago.”

“Geez, where is he?”

“Call him,” I told Miles, standing on my toes and looking around.

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I know. Call him.”

Miles scoffed, pulling out his phone. A few seconds later, Miles started talking. “Peter, where are you?” A pause. “We’re over by the nanotech tent…MJ and I. Did you think she was gonna stand still for an hour and a half, waiting for you?” Another pause. Miles laughed. “Alright, man, whatever. Just get your ass over here.” He hung up.

A few moments later, I saw Peter through the crowd. I pointed him out to Miles, and then we both put a hand up as high as we could to wave him over. He spotted us, and ran over.

“Hey. Sorry. Internship duties.”

“Disappearing for an hour and a half is part of your internship duties?” Miles asked.

“Why do you think I get free admission?”

“Not to mention he got all of us free admission passes,” I told Miles.

“You right, you right, my b.”

“It’s getting dark,” Peter said, “you wanna head out?”

“Yeah, if you want. I’m kinda tired, I could use an early night.”

“Okay, let’s go. See you later, Miles.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll stay here, trying to mingle with some rich white folks.”

I laughed. “See you, Morales!”

Peter and I headed out, getting in his car and heading out of the crowded Expo parking lot.

“Tired of the Expo yet, love?” Peter asked, taking a hand of the steering wheel and holding my hand.

“No, it’s a lot of fun. I think I’ll take up Tony on his drinking offer tomorrow though. Just because drinking with Tony Stark sounds like a wild time and I’d be stupid to pass that up.”

“He asked me, too. I don’t know if it’s a great idea to start drinking with my mentor, though.”

I laughed. “If you don’t drink, I’ll go overboard, and you’ll have to brush my teeth. Like always.”

Peter groaned. “Fine, I’ll drink with you guys. God, I’m making the worst decision of my life.”

“Or,” I countered, “the best decision of your life. Who doesn’t want to drink with Tony Stark?”

“You’re the worst,” he said, grinning.

“Just don’t drink so much you’re hungover, because the next day’s your birthday.”

“MJ, I get hungover when people mention alcohol around me. Just make me drink some water and I’ll be fine.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

We talked about the party we were planning for Ned’s birthday the rest of the way home. Ned’s birthday was a week after Peter’s, so we all kinda figured we wouldn’t do much for Peter’s birthday and Ned and Peter would have a joint birthday party. It was Ned’s idea, right before he said, “But nothing too fancy, guys. I don’t need balloons and streamers, I just need my friends.” Which was a sweet sentiment, but we very much wanted to take it a step too far and make a big joke about the party being “nothing too fancy”. Peter and I talked about Captain Holt’s office party from _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_.

Eventually, he pulled up outside my building.

“Are you staying over tomorrow night?” I asked. “Because that way I can make you pancakes for your birthday the next morning.”

“Well, if you’re offering…”

I laughed, leaning over and kissing him. “You’re a dork.”

“What am I gonna do, MJ? Say no?”

“I love you. See you tomorrow, babe.”

“Love you, too.”

I got out of the car and headed inside, waving at him before I closed the doors behind me.

**August 9 th **

“Peter, do you maybe wanna cool it on the vodka sodas?” I asked, still sipping on my first drink.

Tony waved me off. “He’s gotta build up a tolerance somehow.”

“You’re gonna be the one brushing my teeth tonight, darling,” Peter slurred, downing the rest of his fourth vodka soda.

I grabbed the bottle of vodka and moved it out of his reach. “You should at least drink some water before you keep going, babe.”

Tony nodded, pouring himself a glass of wine. “She’s right. Water first, then more drinks.”

Peter pouted, but he drank the water I gave him. “Okay, I want the vodka back. It tastes tingly.”

I laughed, pouring him another drink. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” I told him.

“I know. Might as well enjoy this now.”

I handed him the drink and watched him gulp down half of it in one go.

“What have I done?” Tony asked me, cheeks rosy.

“You’ve given me some peak entertainment.”

I drank the last of my drink.

“Do you want another one?” Tony asked, grabbing my glass.

I shrugged. “Why not. I’m barely tipsy yet.”

Tony poured me another colourful drink and handed it over, just as Peter took a final gulp of his vodka soda and handed the glass back to me for a refill.

I decided for him that he probably didn’t want to get too much more alcohol in his system, so I poured his drink with my back to him. It was a Sprite.

Peter’s ears were red, and his whole face was flushed. He was grinning this cute, sloppy grin.

“This is much better than talking to other rich assholes. I’m so sick of them asking me about Cap,” Tony grumbled, taking a sip of wine. “Or when they’re getting the invitation to the wedding.”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna invite me to the wedding?”

Tony stared at Peter like he was stupid. He looked at me, rolling his eyes. “Am I gonna invite you to the wedding. Of course I’m inviting you guys to the wedding! God, you’re so stupid for a smart kid, Parker.”

I sipped my drink, watching Peter’s face break out in a big grin. He ran over and hugged Tony.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Tony hugged him back. I smiled. It was a cute sight. It was really obvious that Tony had kind of mentally adopted Peter.

Peter held on to Tony for a good minute and a half, before he pulled away and picked up his drink.

“How funny would it be if the three of us put on disguises and left the Expo tonight?” Tony asked.

“Come on, Mr. Stark, there’s no way you could just walk out of here-”

“No,” I interrupted, “he totally could. Tony, do you have a stash of clothes here?”

He nodded.

I opened my purse. “Okay, I have some makeup in here, so I can make your face look different. Then all you gotta do is maybe mess with your hair and change your clothes and we could likely just waltz out. I mean, Peter and I would likely have to disguise ourselves, too, but that’s easy.”

Tony put his drink down, sitting back in his chair. “Do your worst, MJ.”

I laughed, pulling out some of my powder and a brush. I was dark enough in comparison that this would totally work as contour, or at least a bronzer. I walked over, swirling my brush around in the powder. I started contouring his jaw line to look slimmer and more pointed.

“How do you have the perfect makeup for this in your bag?” Peter slurred.

I giggled. “Peter, this is just what I use to touch up. Just works out that you two are white and I’m not.”

I finished contouring Tony’s face, then moved on to Peter.

“Oh, no no no no no, you’re not putting that on me.”

“Dude, I have makeup wipes in here, you can take it off as soon as we’ve left.”

“Nope, I’m not-”

“Come on, kid,” Tony said.

He fought me, trying to swat me away as I got close with the brush. Eventually I managed to pin his hands behind his back and sat on his lap, straddling him, keeping his back pushed up against the back of his seat, which kept his hands pinned.

“Do you wanna keep fighting or do you wanna just let me put some powder on you?”

“I don’t want that on my face,” he whined, sticking his bottom lip out.

“Too bad.” I held his face still with one hand and contoured his nose with the other, using my fingers instead of my big fluffy brush.

“I just can’t believe this kid managed to pout when there’s a pretty girl on his lap,” Tony grumbled. I snorted. Peter blushed.

“Thanks, I think.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved me off, taking a sip from his glass.

“Can you pass me my bag? I was just gonna go back and forth on you two, but I don’t wanna pin Peter down every time.”

“I got it,” Tony said, handing me my bag. I finished contouring Peter’s face and reached into the bag. I replaced my big fluffy brush with a small eyeshadow brush, and used the same powder to contour his eyes and change the shape of them.

“I don’t wike it,” Peter complained. “It’s ticklish.”

I laughed. “It won’t take as long if you cooperate.”

He stopped whining, but stayed but, letting me finish off his makeup. I used the powder to deepen his eyes and make him look more tired, then used a setting powder as a highlight to change the shape of his eyes. When I was done, I moved back to Tony, doing the same to him, but added some brown eyeliner and then used a mascara to fake a full beard by tapping it against his skin.

“That looks pretty good.”

“Thanks. I used to do the makeup for the theatre department at my middle school.”

Peter stared at me with wide eyes. “You never told me that.”

“It wasn’t relevant.”

I pulled a casual romper out of my bag. “Is there somewhere I can change?”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “How do you have so much in there?”

I looked at the bag. It was a pretty big tote bag. “Organization, I guess.”

Tony pointed to a door. “That’s a bathroom, if you’re alright changing in there.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

I disappeared into the bathroom, taking off my dress and pulling on the romper. I changed up my makeup a bit, let my hair down, threw everything back in my purse, and came out.

“Okay, I’m good to go.”

Tony had taken off his suit jacket and replaced it with a black hoodie. I didn’t think anybody could ever pull of a black hoodie with slacks and dress shoes, but then again, it was Tony Stark. Peter was wearing one of Tony’s suit jackets.

Tony picked up his phone and texted someone. Within a few seconds, Happy was standing in the doorway.

“Tony, are you serious?”

“What?”

“Okay, who in this room is sober?” Happy said with a sigh, realizing Tony was drunk.

Tony and Peter averted their eyes. I picked up my drink, taking a sip from the straw, looking Happy in the eye.

He sighed. “Where to, boss?”

Tony shrugged. “I could do with some McDonald’s. You guys agree? McDonald’s?”

Peter and I nodded. Tony turned back to Happy, smug.

“Let’s go. You better hope your disguises are good enough to fool the paps.”

“I’m not worried,” Tony said, walking past Happy, patting him on the shoulder. Peter and I followed Tony out to a limo. As soon as we got in, Peter laid down, putting his head in my lap.

“That was pretty easy,” Tony said. “Nobody even batted an eye. Good job on the disguises, kiddo.”

I grinned. “Thanks.”

Without thinking, I started playing with Peter’s hair. The car started to move.

“Oh, do you guys want a makeup wipe?” I asked.

“Please,” Tony said, holding out a hand. I pulled my makeup wipes out of my purse and handed him one. He started rubbing the wipe over his face, getting most of the makeup off at once.

“Peter, you want one?”

He rolled over, eyes closed, face up. I rolled my eyes, but started to take his makeup off for him.

“You know, if you hadn’t done this for me when I was drunk, like, two months ago, I wouldn’t be doing this now.”

“Nah, you love me,” he slurred.

I smiled, wiping the last of the makeup off of his face.

We pulled up outside a McDonald’s.

“Dinner’s on me,” Tony said, opening the door and gesturing for me to leave my purse behind.

Peter sat up so I could get out, then slid out after me, putting his arm around me when he stood up. I felt him lean against me and realized he was too drunk to stand on his own. We walked into the McDonald’s, ordered a bunch of food, and sat down in a back corner, hoping to avoid anybody recognizing Tony.

“Hey, kid, you good?” Tony asked, dipping a French fry in his milkshake.

Peter was leaning heavily against my shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Is it normal for the room to be wavy when you’re drunk?”

I laughed. “When you’ve had as many vodka sodas as you have, yeah.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t throw up often, kid, or you’d be discovering where the pink goo chicken nugget thing came from.”

“Gross,” Peter mumbled, grabbing some fries clumsily.

“Do you just want me to feed you? To minimize fry droppage?”

Peter scowled. “I’m not that drunk.” He missed his mouth trying to eat his fries a couple times, then finally got them in. I could feel his muscle in his jaw move against my shoulder as he chewed.

Tony was grinning. “This is so much better than talking to press all night. God, they ask the dumbest questions. It’s like, hey, numbnuts, the reason I stopped making weapons is because I realized the kind of power they held, not because I’m some huge pacifist, but you’d know that if you could connect the dots and realize that I literally kill aliens for a living. On occasion.”

“On occasion,” I repeated.

“Yeah, you know, special occasions. The holidays are a huge alien-killing season,” Tony joked, taking a sip from his milkshake. “Easter, too. You know how aliens feel about chocolate. And bunnies.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, playing along, “the bunnies really get them.”

“Right?”

“I’m lost,” Peter piped up, reaching for my milkshake. I let him take it, stealing his Coke. “Why do aliens like Easter?”

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Tony muttered. “Not as pretty as me, mind you, but pretty.”

I stifled a laugh as Peter lifted his head. “I think I’m honoured,” Peter slurred.

Tony shrugged it off, going back to his food and finishing off his fries. “I’m gonna go wash the grease off my hands. Try not to suck each other’s faces off.”

Man, drunk Tony was the greatest.

Peter put his head back on my shoulder. “It’s a good thing I’m staying with you tonight because May would kill me if I came home this drunk.”

I ran my fingers through his hair absentmindedly. “Yeah, my mom just doesn’t care about my health, so…”

“That’s not true.”

Oh, Peter, if only you knew.

I didn’t respond to that. “You should drink more of that Coke. It’s not water, but it’ll help.”

“It has your lipstick on the straw,” he whined.

I shrugged him off my shoulder, forcing him to hold his own head up, then kissed him. “And now there’s lipstick on your lips. Just drink the Coke, Peter.”

He blinked. “You kissed me.”

“Yes, Peter, we’re dating. I do that fairly often. Drink your Coke.”

“I liked it,” he slurred, blushing and smiling, still talking about the kiss.

“Jesus Christ, Peter, I know you like kissing me because you never stop kissing me. Drink your Coke.”

He leaned in and kissed me, lingering for a moment. When he pulled back he was blushing even harder.

I rolled my eyes, grabbing his cup and holding it in front of him. “Just drink up. I’ll make out with you later.”

Peter took the cup and drank his Coke. It wasn’t water, but I’d make him drink water when we got back to my place.

Tony came back and sat down. “How’s the babysitting going, MJ?”

I grinned at the scandalized look on Peter’s face. “It’s going great. He’s eating his veggies, going to bed on time, you know the drill.”

Peter scowled. “Laugh all you want, I had to brush your teeth last time we got drunk together.”

“No, that was a few drunk nights ago. The last time, if I recall correctly, we ended up doing the horizontal mambo.”

Peter flushed bright red. Tony snorted, then gave me a fist bump.

“I wanna go,” Peter mumbled, putting his drink down and snuggling up to me. “We can’t keep MJ up too late or she won’t make me birthday pancakes.”

“Birthday pancakes?” Tony asked, looking at me.

“It’s his birthday tomorrow and he really loves my pancakes so since we’re not really having a birthday party for him because of the expo, I promised him pancakes.”

“She’s a keeper, kid,” Tony said, slurping down the last bit of his milkshake. “Let’s go. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on those pancakes.”

We headed back out to the limo, and Tony instructed Happy to swing by my place before taking him back to the expo.

It wasn’t a long drive. Peter was drowsy and cuddly, and it was nice. Tony and Happy were talking about some expo stuff. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was cuddling with Peter and watching the city pass by through the window.

We pulled up outside my building, and I realized that Peter had dozed off.

“Peter,” I said softly, “we’re here.”

He groaned, lifting his head off of my shoulder. “You should carry me up.”

“Babe, I have the upper arm strength of a chicken nugget. Come on, let’s go.”

“See you kids tomorrow,” Tony said.

“See you, Tony.”

“See you, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled.

We got out of the car and I actually managed to get him all the way upstairs without him falling over or anything. When we got into the apartment, I made him chug a glass of water, then another, then refilled his glass and put it next to the bed.

“Come on, let’s get your teeth brushed,” I told him, pulling him into the bathroom.

“I don’t have a toothbrush,” Peter told me, looking very concerned.

“Peter, you have a spare toothbrush here.”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

I got toothpaste on his brush, wetted it, then handed it to him. “Can you brush your own teeth?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, good. I’m gonna change real quick. You brush your teeth, do whatever else you need to do, and I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”

He nodded, putting the brush in his mouth and starting to brush.

I went into my room, changed out of my romper into a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I emptied out my purse, too, since I figured Drunk Peter was a little slower at getting ready for bed.

I was wrong. He came into my room, pinned me to the bed, and kissed me. I made this weird, surprised noise and pushed him away, as gently as I could.

“You said you’d make out with me when we got home,” Peter said.

“Yeah, give me a bit to take off my makeup and brush my teeth and go to the bathroom, and I’ll make out with you when I get back.”

He got onto his side of the bed and sat there with his arms crossed. I laughed.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes, babe.”

I went into the bathroom, got ready for bed, and came back into my room. Peter’s whole face lit up when he saw me. I grinned. It felt good to have somebody excited to see you.

I got on top of him and kissed him, and he, with a surprising amount of grace for somebody that wasted, flipped me over onto my back, so that he was on top.

My mom chose a very inopportune moment to knock on the door. I also realized the hard way that it hadn’t clicked shut properly. The door swung open, and Peter jumped off of me.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. MJ, I figured I’d let you know that I only work a half day tomorrow, so I’ll be home around 1.”

“Cool. Sounds good. Thanks, Mom,” I said, trying to act normal and simultaneously get her out of the bedroom as quickly as possible.

“I’ll, um, let you get back to… whatever you were up to. Always a pleasure, Peter.”

“Nice to see you, too, Ms. Jones.”

As my mom left the room, I heard her mutter, “Yeah, he’s drunk.”

The second the door was closed, Peter tackled me again, pressing his lips to mine. I smiled against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck. He was kinda fun to kiss drunk. Sober Peter was generally a little bit shy, especially when it came to making out or sex. Drunk Peter just went for it, pushing his hands under my shirt and using his teeth. I mean, either way, I wasn’t complaining.

Eventually, he stopped kissing me and dropped his head onto my shoulder. “I’m tired.”

“Makes sense, it’s pretty late.”

He got off of me and got into bed next to me. I got under the covers, cuddling up next to him. He put a hand on my face, and made me look at him, then ran a thumb over my lips, smiling.

“Your lips are swollen.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you make out with someone for, like, twenty minutes.”

He just smiled and pulled me closer, then promptly fell asleep.

**August 10 th**

I woke up a good twenty minutes before Peter. In that time, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and started on the birthday pancakes.

He padded out of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

“Happy birthday, babe. How’s the hangover?”

“Bearable.”

“Did you drink the water I left you by the bed?”

He nodded. “Do you have any aspirin?”

I opened a cupboard and tossed him a bottle. He got a glass and filled it with water, took some aspirin, then chugged the whole glass in two or three gulps.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Peter came over and kissed me on the cheek, then sat on the counter as I finished making the pancake batter. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have anything planned, other than the pancakes. I figured we were just doing expo stuff.”

“So, does that mean I get to hang out with you until the expo tonight?” I turned to see him grinning.

“Yes, it does.”

I got a pan out of the cupboard and put it on the stove to heat up, then got some butter out of the fridge to grease the pan.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth and get dressed. Lemme know when the pancakes are ready,” Peter said, jumping off the counter. He was very energetic for someone who probably had a killer hangover, but then again, he was always overly cheerful on his birthday.

I made a big stack of pancakes and stuck some candles in them, since he likely wasn’t getting a birthday cake tonight. He came out of the bathroom as I was lighting the candles.

“Oh, that’s fancy.”

I laughed, putting down the lighter. “Come on, blow out the candles.”

He sat down in front of the plate, looked up at me, then blew the candles out.

“What did you wish for?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No wish this year.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re cheesy.”

I grabbed my plate and sat down across the table from him.

“So, I have a request,” Peter said, before shoving a bite of pancake in his mouth.

“Shoot.”

“Can I pick your dress for tonight?”

I pressed my lips together. “Yeah, okay.”

He chewed through those pancakes in double time, then got up and ran into my bedroom, and re-emerged with the dress I was planning on wearing the last night of the expo. It was all slinky and sparkly, and I could definitely see why Peter wanted me to wear it.

“This one,” he said, grinning.

I smiled, rolling my eyes. “Alright.”

He put it back in my bedroom. “I’m picking shoes to go with it!” he called. I laughed.

I finished my pancakes, and we cuddled on the couch and watched a couple movies before we started getting ready for the expo. I straightened my hair, put on the dress and shoes, and did my makeup.

“You look amazing,” Peter said, poking his head into the bathroom as I put on lip gloss.

“Thanks.”

“You’re staying at my place tonight, right?” he asked.

“Are you asking if I’m staying over or asking if we’re gonna have a little post-expo after party?” I asked, smirking.

He blushed, running his tongue over his lower lip and scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, both?”

I laughed. “Yes. To both.”

He smiled, and left the bathroom.

I came out a few minutes later. “Is the limo here?”

“Uh, should be in a couple minutes.”

I went into my bedroom and got my purse, then took Peter’s hand and led him out of the apartment so we could wait in the lobby.

“Thanks for wearing the dress for me,” Peter said.

“Well, it is your birthday. Oh, remind me to give you the actual birthday present I bought you when we get back to your place.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said with a suggestive wink.

I smacked him playfully, but didn’t say anything.

The limo pulled up and took us to the expo, where we ran into some friends, went to some talks, partied it up, and just generally had a good time. Tony even wished Peter a happy birthday during one of his talks, which put the biggest smile on Peter’s face.

We spent a few hours at the expo before Peter suggested we go back to his place. All of our friends had left and there were no other talks I was dying to see, so we headed out. The limo ride to his place felt longer than usual. Maybe because of the anticipation. Maybe because I was thinking about kissing his neck and taking off his clothes and-

“So, Ned and I were talking about kind of combining our birthday parties.”

“Hm?”

“Yeah, because his birthday is in a week, so he suggested we just combine our parties and then it’s just less work. Plus, you know, he’s my best friend, so it makes sense.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

The limo pulled up to Peter’s building, and we got out.

“I don’t know, I feel like I’d be hijacking his party,” Peter continued. “Like, by then, my birthday’s over, it doesn’t really matter.”

“If Ned suggested it, he probably really wants to combine birthdays. I mean, you two are best friends, and he really cares about you. I don’t think he’d see it as hijacking.”

“You’re probably right.”

We got into the elevator and he hit the button for his floor.

“So, Aunt May worked late today so she and I are celebrating some other time, which means…”

“That you and I can celebrate tonight?” I asked. I caught myself chewing on my tongue again.

“Yeah.” He was definitely blushing.

“Oh, right, I have presents for you in my bag.”

The elevator dinged, and we got off. I dug through my purse, trying to find the box as we walked down the hall to Peter’s apartment. We got in and I pulled it out. It was a small box, wrapped in red and blue wrapping paper, tied with a white ribbon. I had a card to go with it that I pulled out of a side pocket.

“Okay, so, um, don’t open the card tonight. I specifically meant it for a night when you’re feeling sad or just down and I know that sometimes you don’t want to text me about that stuff because you feel like you’re bothering me, so next time you feel like that, while I’d prefer you just text me, I wrote you a card to lift your spirits.” I handed him the card. He turned it over in his hands, a small smile on his lips.

“That’s…really thoughtful, love. Thank you.”

“Well, you know, I try. I also got you this.” I handed him the box.

I watched him pull at the ribbon to untie it, then unwrap the box. Inside was my favourite perfume.

“In case you ever miss me and want your clothes to smell like me,” I said, suddenly feeling kind of shy, like maybe he wouldn’t want that. But he put the perfume down and pulled me into a tight hug, swaying back and forth a little.

“You’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He kissed me, the same way he always did. Slow and sweet. But his hands managed to unzip my dress while we were kissing and then he just picked me up and carried me into his bedroom.

When I came out of said bedroom, I was wearing a full outfit of Peter’s clothes, with my hair tied up in what I can only describe as a bun that quit its day job. It was falling apart and halfway down my head, but it was keeping the hair off of my neck, and that was all I cared about.

Peter asked me to get a couple things out of his car, so I took the elevator down to the lobby, Peter’s car keys in my pocket. To get down to the parking garage, I had to walk past the common area, where I noticed a few people were decorating. I didn’t think much of it until I recognized Harry. They were setting up a surprise party. I frantically texted Peter about it, then poked my head in.

“Oh, shit- Supri- wait, you’re not Peter.”

“Aw, thanks, Ned, you seem so happy to see me.”

“Shut up. You’re the one who looks like they just stepped out of a sauna,” Ned retorted.

“Ned, you dense idiot, she and Peter were obviously celebrating his birthday in their own way,” Harry said, smirking. He held up his hand to high five me. I glared, but gave in.

“Wait, what do you mean in their own way?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ned,” Cindy said, walking past. “They were boinking.”

Ned’s eyes widened. “Oh. Duh. Makes sense.”

I rolled my eyes. “So, why didn’t you guys tell me about the surprise party?”

Jessie and Ned looked at each other. “Uh, you and Peter tend to tell each other everything,” Jessie said.

“You guys know I can keep a secret!”

“Yeah, but-”

Jessie’s eyes went wide. I turned around. Peter was walking into the common area, pulling on his shirt as he came in.

Nice. Real subtle.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETER!”

“Thanks, guys,” he said, smiling and wiping some sweat off of his forehead.

Man, of all the times for our friends to throw a surprise party, it had to be now.

He came over to me, sliding a hand around my waist, pulling me into his side. “You think anybody knows…?”

“Peter, everybody knows. You walked in, covered in sweat, still pulling your shirt on. Not to mention, they all figured it out when I got here.”

“How’d they figure it out based off of you?”

I laughed. “I’m covered in sweat, wearing your sweater, and just came downstairs from your apartment. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”

He smiled sheepishly. “We still have to master the subtlety aspect of all of this, don’t we?”

“Yeah, probably.”

He kissed my cheek. “We’ll just have to practice.” He walked away to go talk to Betty, who was waving him over.

I joined Miles in the corner.

“What’s up kiddo?” he asked. “How was your little afterparty with Peter?”

I laughed, my cheeks feeling warm. “It was, uh, fun.”

“Well, I would hope so,” Miles teased, messing with my hair.

“Hey! Hands off the goods, Morales!”

He laughed, pulling the hair tie out of my hair. “Ah, there we go. That glorious bedhead.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, shut up, you love me.”

“Yeah, that won’t stop me from kicking your ass if I need to,” I said, grabbing my hair tie out of his hand and tying my hair back up.

“We just need to get you drunk,” he said, grabbing a can of beer off a nearby table and handing it to me. “Then you’ll lose all your feistiness and you’ll just be drooling over Peter in a corner.”

“That’s not true,” I protested, cracking open the can of beer and chugging the whole thing in one go.

“Damn, chica, slow down.”

“Nope. Give me shots. If you wanna get me drunk, you gotta commit, Morales.”

So, five shots later, I ran over to Peter, drunk out of my mind.

“Heyyyyyy, babe.”

I threw my arms around his neck from behind and leaned over his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

He laughed, pulling my arms apart so he could turn around and kiss me properly.

“You two are so gross,” Harry whined.

“You’re only mad because you’re still single,” I told him, stumbling a little. Peter caught me around the waist smoothly.

“How much have you had to drink, MJ?”

I held up a hand and counted out my drinks. “Uh, one beer and… five shots.”

Peter shook his head, smiling. “You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.”

I shrugged. “Might as well enjoy it now, then,” I slurred, bunching the fabric of his shirt up in my hands and kissing him.

“If you two are gonna go at it for the second time tonight, can you at least not do it in the middle of a party?” Harry complained.

Peter pulled away from the kiss to playfully shove Harry. “You don’t have to watch.”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked away.

I blinked, dizzy. “Can we sit down?”

“Sure, love.”

He pulled me over to a couch and we sat down. Suddenly, I felt guilty.

“I’m sorry for hogging you at your party. You should probably go hang out with your friends.”

He shook his head, wrapping his arms around me. “Nah, you’re stuck with me. I love you too much.”

I smiled, and I could tell I was blushing. He kissed me again, just a quick peck, but somehow it made me melt. Drunk MJ was such a dork.

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll still be together at, like, grad? Or in college?”

He frowned. “Of course we’ll still be together,” he said, “you’re my person.”

I giggled. Drunk MJ was also a giggler.

“MJ, I’m serious. I love you and I never want this to end.”

“You say that now,” I told him, still giggling. “You don’t even know me.”

“What do you mean?”

I got up, grabbing his hand. “Dance with me.”

“MJ, what did you mean?”

I shook my head, pulling his hand. “Dance with me.”

He let me pull him onto the “dance floor”, which was really just a square in the middle of the room that Ned had designated with bright pink masking tape. At first, he seemed reluctant to get into it, presumably thrown off by my “you don’t even know me” comment, but he slowly got into it. I think we danced to ten or eleven songs before the alcohol got the best of me and I was just leaning against him.

“Should we go upstairs?” he whispered into my ear.

“I don’t wanna be the reason you stop celebrating your birthday,” I whined, burying my face in his neck.

“MJ, we should probably get you into bed.”

“I know, but I can get Miles to take me up so you don’t have to.”

“Is that what you want?”

I looked at him. It was one of those perfect, HD moments where I noticed everything about him. His perfect hair and his perfect eyes and his perfect everything.

“I mean, I love going to bed with you and cuddling with you and falling asleep with you, but I don’t want you to miss out on your party because I’m a drunk mess.”

Peter laughed. “I’m not exactly sober, darling.”

I frowned. He seemed pretty sober to me, but maybe it was just that whole relativity thing. Or I was too drunk to notice he was drunk.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“Three beers and a shot, I think.”

I shook my head, pulling away from him. “Okay, well, you’re gonna keep partying and having fun, and I’ll head upstairs on my own.”

I immediately stumbled and starting to fall, and by some miracle, Peter’s reflexes were fast enough that he caught me, grabbing my hand.

“You are definitely too drunk to go on your own. The party’s winding down, anyways. It’s, what, almost two o’clock? Cindy, Betty, and Jess already left to go play with Cindy’s dog.”

I ran my fingers through his hair, pushing his curls off his forehead. “Yeah, but you should still be able to enjoy the party.”

“I’d enjoy cuddling with you and playing with your hair a lot more than this.”

I grinned, then giggled. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. We should say goodbye to everyone.”

We made our way around what was left of the party. Liz was drunk enough to hug Peter and kiss me on the cheek, Harry was tired enough to give up the snark and tell us to have a good night (without any innuendos!), and Ned grinned and told Peter about how lucky he is to have him as a friend.

Then we went upstairs, arm in arm, and fell into his bed, exhausted. I took off his sweater and his sweatpants, leaving me in my underwear, and pulled up the covers. He took off his shirt and crawled into bed next to me. I put my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as he played with my hair.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I sat up and turned to see him better, leaning on my elbow. “No, you don’t understand. I really love you.”

“Yeah, MJ, I really love you, too.”

I dropped my head, frustrated. “No, you’re not getting it. Like, I love you so much that it’s, like, annoying. I just never stop thinking about you or wanting to be around you. I can’t imagine not being together forever. It’s distracting.”

He laughed. “Being in love with me is annoying?”

“Yes! I’ve never been in love before you, okay? It’s weird.”

He laughed, reaching up, sliding a hand around to the back of my neck, and pulling me down so he could kiss me.

“You’re amazing,” he told me, his voice barely a whisper.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, pouting because he broke the kiss.

“For the record, I love you the same way. That, like, ache in your chest.”

I smiled. “Yeah. The chest ache.”

I put my head on his chest again, cuddling up to him. I wondered if he were feeling the chest ache right now.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

I smiled to myself, letting my eyes drift shut. Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.


	15. Re-opening Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright kiddos buckle your seatbelts because this chapter is an emotional rollercoaster.  
> Thanks again to the lovely @itslizzyallan for curating the songs for the playlist again! The songs are 75-87. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**August 20 th **

“Peter, it’s so early and I was up so late,” I whined.

“I know, but I miss you.”

I groaned into my phone, rolling out of bed. “I miss you, too, asshole.”

“So, can I pick you up for breakfast?”

“Give me, like, twenty minutes to get my shit together.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in twenty. Love you.”

“Love you too, Peter.”

I hung up, got dressed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, put in some contact lenses, and fed my dog, all before I got the “I’m here” text from Peter.

I ran downstairs and got in his car, leaning over and kissing him.

“You perked up a lot in twenty minutes. You sounded like you were still half asleep on the phone,” Peter teased, slipping his hand into mine.

“Yeah, well, I knew I was gonna see you.”

He grinned, his cheeks rosy. “You’re cute. Let’s go get breakfast.”

We drove to this cute diner and went in. I was pretty much silent until I drank a whole coffee.

“Okay, I’m human now.”

Peter laughed. “Oh, thank God. I was gonna have to explain to Aunt May that I’m dating an alien.”

I smacked his arm from across the table. “You’re cheesy.”

“Yeah, you love it.”

I bit into my bagel. “You know, if we could have breakfast together every day, I’d be the happiest girl alive.”

He smiled. “You know, that’d probably require us going to sleep together every night, too.”

“Even better.”

“And if we’re going to sleep together every night, we’d probably have to live together.”

“That’s the dream. Then I wouldn’t have to have a stash of your hoodies because I’d always have access to your closet.”

Peter looked at me, tilting his head. “Are you wearing my sweater right now?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, pulling it tighter around myself. “It’s comfy.”

He laughed. “I’m only okay with it because they smell like you when you give them back.”

We finished eating and paid, and then went back to my place to hang out. We spent a few hours sitting on the couch, cuddling and watching movies.

Out of nowhere, Peter took a deep breath, then sat up, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie.

“Sorry, just…something’s been on my mind and, uh, can we talk?”

I frowned, panicking a little inside. “Sure.”

“I, uh, you and Miles were talking on the group chat the other day, and you said something about…being hit…when you were a kid.”

I was chewing hard on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah…”

“I just…I don’t know how to say this. I just wish you’d come to me about that stuff, I guess. Like, I mean, I want to know what happened to you.”

I blinked. “What?”

“It’s just that I’m your boyfriend, right? And you should be able to talk to me about that stuff.”

I took a deep breath, trying not to shake. Just thinking about…that stuff…it made me anxious. “Peter, it’s nothing personal, it’s just that I don’t really talk to anybody about that stuff. The only reason I go to Miles about it is because he was around back then, you know? He already knows what happened, I don’t have to relive it.”

“But you said something about it in the group chat.”

“Yeah, well, it’s easier to talk about it in the group chat, where I can’t see the ‘you poor baby’ look.”

Peter took my hand in both of his. “I feel like I need to know, MJ, so I can understand-”

I stood up, taking my hand back, suddenly filled with anger. “You need to know? What, like you have some kind of right to my past? Some kind of right to the shit I’ve been through? That’s not how it works, Peter.”

He sputtered for a moment, looking for the words. “But-but that’s why you and Miles are so close. He knows all that stuff about you, and I feel like there’s this whole side of you I don’t know.”

“Why does that matter?” I asked, my voice getting louder. “Why do you feel like you have to, like, compete with him? God, Peter, I love you. Can’t that be enough?”

He stood up, taking a step towards me. “Please, MJ, I’m just trying to get to know you a little better-”

“You’re trying to make me relive my worst memories.”

“MJ, please-”

“You know what? You wanna know so bad?” I yelled, turning on as many lights as I could. “Here.” I took off his sweater and then my shirt, turning around so he could see my back.

It was littered with faint scars from my childhood, most of them from a specific incident with my mom’s boyfriend at the time smashing dishes over my back. I was seven.

I could feel Peter’s fingers grazing over a couple of the scars, and I shivered involuntarily. Every instinct in my brain, every fibre of my being was yelling at me to pull away, pull my shirt back on, throw up all my walls and shut him out, but I fought the urge. He had to see this, I figured. He needed to know.

His hands landed on my shoulders, and he turned me to face him. I was gripping my shirt in my hand so tight that my knuckles were paper white, and I was biting my lip to stop myself from crying.

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry. I know, Peter.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?” he asked, his voice quiet, eyes dropped.

“I really don’t-”

“Please?”

My eyes prickled, my nose tingled, and my lip was quivering, but I nodded.

“Does any of…this…relate to what happened with Senator Dewsbury?”

I frowned. “What?”

“I mean, like, had that happened before? Had somebody hurt you like that?”

I choked up. Yes, absolutely. I’d been felt up and groped by my mom’s creepy exes, but I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t know if Peter would ever be able to look at me the same way again. If he’d see me as some dirty, used thing, and not his girlfriend. Not the smart, funny girl he always described me as.

I closed my eyes and nodded, immediately turning away and pulling my shirt back on.

“Love, I’m so sorry-”

“Please, just go.”

He paused. “What?” His voice was soft, sad, disbelieving.

“Leave. Please.”

I had my arms wrapped around my midsection, hugging myself, as I leaned against a wall.

He stepped towards me, reaching out, but stopped. “MJ, I don’t want to leave you when you’re upset.”

“Don’t talk to me,” I snapped. “Just go.” My voice broke on “go”, and tears started to fall down my face.

He stared at me for a moment, looking sad and concerned.

“I love you,” he reminded me.

I didn’t say anything. He dropped his eyes, and left. I was hyperaware of the way the door clicked shut behind him, like there was some kind of finality to it.

I stood there, leaning against the wall, trying to process what happened. I was sobbing, and I couldn’t breathe, and I felt trapped.

I decided I needed to go for a walk. It was chilly out, since the sun was setting and it was a little breezy, but I didn’t care. I just grabbed my keys and left, not even bothering with Peter’s sweater, which was left on the floor of the living room.

It was a long walk. It was cold, and I knew it wasn’t safe because it was getting dark out, but the longer I walked, the better I felt. I felt like I could breathe again.

When I got home, I took a long, hot shower, trying to wash that old dirty feeling off of my skin. I wondered if it’d ever go away. If one day I’d be able to look at my body and not see the ghosts of bruises and cuts. I wondered what it was like to look in the mirror and just see yourself.

Maybe one day. But not today.

The water was boiling hot, almost burning my skin, but it was kind of nice. I stood there for much longer than I should’ve, letting the water run over me, crying so hard I thought I might puke.

How could Peter love me, especially knowing what he knew now? How could he look at me and want to kiss me or hold me? How could he love the girl who’s been broken and cut up and closed off and so, so scared? How could he love me when I’ve been other people’s punching bag? How could he look at me and see a future? Because I couldn’t love me, so how could he?

When I finally got out of the shower, my skin glowed pink from the boiling water. I felt drained and exhausted and grey. It was still relatively early, but I didn’t want to be awake anymore. I dried off and then pulled on a pair of soft shorts and one of Peter’s sweaters and crawled into bed. I pulled the sweater up so it covered my mouth and nose, and breathed in. It smelled like him.

I wished I hadn’t pushed him away. I wished I’d just told him to stay the night, so he’d be here, arms wrapped around me, face buried in my hair, making me feel warm and safe. But why would he want to? Why would he want to touch me, or even look at me anymore?

Maybe I’d only pushed him away because I didn’t want to give him the chance to reject me.

I cried into the fabric of his sweater until I fell asleep.

**August 21 st**

I was up early. Probably because I fell asleep early. I got up and made some hot cocoa, then sat out on the fire escape and watched the sunrise, trying not to think about yesterday. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t the end of Peter and I, and I’d come out the other side and still have a boyfriend.

Around 8:30, he texted me, asking if I was up. When I responded, he apologized for pushing me to open up yesterday.

The thing was, I was angry. But not at him. At myself.

We went back and forth, apologizing to each other, and eventually I asked if I could go over to his place. The second he said yes, I jumped up, got dressed, and sped over.

Part of me wanted to be cautious. Maybe things had changed between us. Maybe we couldn’t go back.

But the second I knocked, he threw open the door, pulled me into the apartment, and hugged me so tight I lost my breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I’ve said that a thousand times but I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t’ve pushed. I shouldn’t’ve pushed you.”

I started crying, bunching up his shirt in fistfuls and holding him tight as I cried into his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d want me anymore.”

“Of course I do. Jesus, MJ, of course I do. I love you so much.”

He squeezed me tighter, one arm wrapped around my midsection, one hand on the back of my head.

We stood there for a while, in the entryway of his apartment, holding each other as tight as we could. When I stopped crying so hard that my whole body was shaking, he slowly pulled back, kissing my forehead, and then pulling me into his room, closing the door behind us.

“Sorry, um, Aunt May is still here, because she doesn’t work until this afternoon, and I figured you’d want some privacy.”

“Thanks.” I wiped my tears with my sleeve. “I’m sorry for freaking out. Last night and, you know, right now.”

“It’s okay. How do you feel?” He sat down on the bottom bunk of his bunk bed and patted the spot next to him.

I laughed humourlessly, sitting down next to him. “I don’t know. How am I supposed to feel right now?”

He looked worried. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly, wiping at my eyes again. “I don’t think so.”

He started to wrap his arms around me, but there was a knock on the door. “Peter, who’s in there?”

Peter got up and went to the door, opening it a crack. “MJ.”

“You know the rules, Peter. She’s your girlfriend. Door has to stay open.”

“I know, I know, but-”

“No buts.”

I took a breath and piped up. “I was crying. He just knows I don’t really like crying in front of other people. Sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey, is everything okay?” May asked, pushing the door open.

I looked at Peter, and felt the corners of my mouth lift just a little. “Yeah, things are better now.”

“Alright. Leave the door open a crack.”

“Thanks, May.”

May kissed Peter on the forehead before pulling the door almost shut behind her.

Peter came and sat next to me again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, slipping my hand into his and moving closer to him.

“I was really worried about you,” Peter admitted quietly. “You scared me last night. I barely slept.”

“I’m fine, Peter. All of…it…happened a long time ago.”

“I know, but it clearly still hurts you.”

“Yeah, it does. I had a pretty shitty childhood. That’s something that sticks with you. But I can handle it. I’m fine.”

“You’re happy?”

I stared at him. “Of course I’m happy. I have the best friends on Earth. I have you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Peter. Stop worrying about me. One or two bad days won’t make me depressed.”

He let out a breath, squeezing my hand. “I know. I just don’t really know what’s going on inside your head. I never would’ve suspected that you’d ever been through stuff like that if you hadn’t mentioned it in the group chat. And, man, how many times have I seen you shirtless and I’ve never noticed those scars? I feel like the world’s worst boyfriend.”

“Almost like how I never knew your parents died?” I asked.

He hesitated. “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s different.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. I stared at our hands, interwoven.

“I love you,” he whispered after a while. “A lot.”

“I love you, too.”

He leaned in and kissed me, soft and slow. He almost seemed hesitant to touch me. His hands barely grazed my body. If it hadn’t been for the slightly ajar door, I would’ve pushed him back on the bed and gotten on top of him and told him not to treat me like glass. Instead, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and planted his hand firmly on my waist. He smiled against my lips.

“What?” I mumbled, pulling back.

“Nothing,” he said, smiling, “I just like how bold you are.”

“I’m not bold, you’re just a chicken.”

“Whatever it is, I like it.”

He kissed me again, pulling me into his lap. This kiss was a little less soft and slow.

He ran one hand over my back, and all of a sudden, all I could think about was last night. I shivered involuntarily, and he stopped kissing me. I could see him about to ask if I was okay, so I cut him off before he got the words out.

“Where’s Thwip?”

“Oh, she’s, um, probably just in the living room.”

We went into the living room. Once Thwip saw me, she jumped down from the couch, tail wagging. I knelt down and let her lick my face.

“Hey, Thwip, how are you?”

“Why does my dog like you more than she likes me?” Peter complained, kneeling on the ground next to me. He put a hand on the small of my back – out of habit, I think – but moved it up to my shoulder when I flinched.

“What do you mean?” I asked, scratching her behind the ear. “She loves you. She’d kick me out if it meant you’d pet her.”

Peter laughed. I really loved his laugh. “Yeah, she has barked you off of me once or twice, hasn’t she?”

“It’s fair. If I saw another girl on your lap, I wouldn’t be too happy.” I looked up to see Peter smiling at me. “What?”

“You’re cute.”

“Because I said I wouldn’t be happy if another girl was sitting in your lap?”

He grinned. “We both know I’d be the first one to push her off, but yeah.”

I kissed his cheek. “Right answer.”

We played with the dog for a while, just hanging out and having a good time. Eventually, May had to head to work, making sure Peter knew not to “fool around” on the way out.

After the door closed, I turned to Peter. “So, I take it she doesn’t know about us ‘fooling around’ on a regular basis?”

Peter blushed bright pink. “Well, I mean, she knows I stay over at your place on a regular basis. I figure eventually she’ll put it together.”

“You could just…tell her.”

“What? No! It’s May! She wouldn’t take it well at all.” Peter’s voice cracked about three times, and I laughed at him. “MJ! It’s not funny.”

“Sorry, babe.” I was still laughing. He crossed his arms and stuck his bottom lip out. “I still think you should just talk to May.”

“She’s not like your mom, she’ll freak out.”

I put my hands up in surrender. “Alright. Whatever. You do you, Peter.”

There was another long moment of silence. The mood in the room dropped. Peter was looking at me, concerned.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s j- are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, but I’m worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Peter. I’m doing just fine.”

He fell silent again.

“Peter?”

“You’re gonna get mad at me.”

“Just tell me.”

He took a deep breath, refusing to meet my eyes. “It just kind of hurts that you seem to trust Miles more than me. And yeah, I know you two grew up attached at the hip, and you guys have more history than we do, I get that. But you trust me in a lot of ways that you don’t – at least, as far as I know – trust Miles, and-”

I cut him off. “It’s not that I trust Miles more. It’s just hard to talk about some of that stuff. I don’t have to explain it to him, he just gets it. He was there, he saw it all, he knows the stories. I don’t have to relive it with him. I do with you, and it’s nothing against you, and I don’t trust you any less, but you’ve just…you’ve gotta wait for me to get there. I will, eventually, but you’ve gotta give me time.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair. “Okay.” He looked up at me, his eyes wet. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. I leaned in to kiss him. It was meant to be short and sweet, but then Peter wrapped his arms around me and wouldn’t let go, and then we were lying on the couch, and he was on top, and he was kissing me like he was hungry.

I had this awful flashback. I remembered the rough hands of my mom’s ex on my shoulders, on my chest, around my waist. Then, I remembered Senator Dickhead’s hand on my shoulder, on my waist, around my wrist. It didn’t matter that they weren’t here, or that I’d never see them again. It didn’t matter that the person touching me right now was Peter. All I knew was panic.

I pushed him off, accidentally pushing myself to the side and tumbling off the couch. I was shaking and trying so hard not to cry that it ached in my chest.

“MJ-”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, pushing myself up and sitting against the couch. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He got off the couch and sat next to me. “No, don’t be. I should’ve asked. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.”

I stared across the room at the wall, trying to ground myself and regulate my breathing so I didn’t have a full-on panic attack.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is ever going to go away,” I admitted. “This feeling. Feeling panicky and _dirty_ and broken.”

“Did I- did I do something?” Peter asked, his voice soft and gentle.

“No. No, that’s the first time I’ve had a- a moment like that since we’ve been together. I think it was just kind of stirred up from yesterday and…” Peter sniffled, and when I looked up, his eyes were filled with tears. “Peter, it’s not on you. It’s not. Don’t-”

Too late. He sobbed, and it was awful. It was this awful, heartbreaking, crackly sob. He dropped his head on my shoulder.

“I wish I could save you from all of it. I wish I could’ve stopped it.”

I shifted and pulled him into a hug. “You were a kid. It’s not on you.”

“I know. But I wish I could protect you from that stuff.”

His whole body shook at he cried. Thwip wandered over and started investigating, eventually using her snout to push us apart. Peter was doing that sniffly-laugh thing, and as much as it hurt my heart to see him cry, nobody did the sniffly-laugh thing cuter. Thwip licked the tears off his face.

“Aw, girl, come on, that’s my eye,” he groaned, trying to push her off gently. She stopped licking his cheeks and took up residence in his lap, curling up and then staring right at me.

“Yeah, she’s definitely possessive,” I teased, reaching out and scratching her ears. She wagged her tail, hitting it against Peter’s side repeatedly. He didn’t seem to mind. She stayed put for a few more minutes, then got up and crossed the room, finding a chew toy and laying down with it. Once she was off his lap, I leaned over and wiped the last tears off of Peter’s face. He sniffled, giving me a small smile.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I would do anything to go back and change what happened to you.”

I kissed him. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

He stood up, taking my hand and pulling me up, too. “I need a nap, so that means you’re cuddling with me.”

I smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

We went into his room. He laid down on the bottom bunk of his bed while I went to his closet and put on one of his sweaters.

“Oh, come on, MJ, you already own most of my clothes,” he whined, but when I looked over he was smiling. I crossed to the bed and laid down next to him (which pretty much meant on top of him, since his bed was pretty small).

“It looks better on me anyways,” I teased, putting my head on his chest.

“They all do.”

He wrapped his arms around me, which meant I felt his muscles relax as he dozed off. I listened to his heartbeat until I fell asleep, too.

I woke up an hour later. Peter was already awake, still holding me in the same position. I groaned, rolling off of him. I forgot how small his bed was, and hit the ground hard.

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

I was already laughing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He rolled off the bed and landed next to me, grabbing my face with both hands and kissing me.

He had this way of putting all my worries out of my head. I don’t know how. Maybe that was why I didn’t want him to touch me when I was upset. The same reason he couldn’t look at me when he was upset. All of that emotion dissolves and you can’t stand your ground. But right now, I needed him to dissolve all of the swirling emotions in my chest. I didn’t want to remember how angry and hurt I was feeling from all the shit that happened to me when I was a kid. And I wasn’t feeling it at all. All I felt was Peter’s hands on my face and his lips on mine and this warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest.

When he pulled away, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

“What?”

“Nothing. How long we you awake?”

“Just a couple of minutes.”

I brushed a couple of curls off his forehead. “I should probably head home. Walk the dog and stuff.”

“Aw, I want you to stay.”

“Yeah, but you’re seeing me tomorrow anyways. Since it’s our two month anniversary.”

“I know, but still. I’m gonna miss you all night.”

“You know, Peter, there’s this amazing piece of technology called the ‘cell phone’ and what you can do is-”

Peter cut me off, laughing. “Shut up! That’s not the same as having you here.”

“Sorry, babe, but I have shit to do at home. I didn’t even mean to spend the whole day here.”

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting. “Fine. I’m picking you up at seven tomorrow.”

“Sounds lovely.”

I kissed him again, then got up.

“You can walk me down to my car if you want.”

He jumped up and took my hand in his, and we left his apartment.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of weird how close we are?” I asked. “Like, tomorrow is two months for us. That’s not that long.”

He looked at me with a slight frown. “I don’t think it’s weird. I mean, it definitely feels like we’ve been dating for longer than we have, but we’ve also been friends since sophomore year.”

“I guess.”

“Why were you thinking about that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Other than Miles, I don’t have any old friends. Sometimes I have to remind myself that you and I don’t have the same history as Miles and I do. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

“You knew me in kindergarten. We went to school together.”

“Yeah, but I wrote you off as some skinny white boy and never really acknowledged you.”

Peter scoffed, putting a hand over his heart, feigning offence. “Ouch, Jones.”

I smiled. “Sorry, babe, it is what it is.”

We got to my car. I pulled my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors.

“Do I get my sweater back?” Peter teased, tugging at the sleeve.

I shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”

I kissed him, then got into my car. He stood there and watched as I drove away.

I was going to have to tell him everything, sooner or later. I wondered if he’d still be watching me drive away if he knew now.

**August 25 th **

“Okay,” I said to the girls, putting on my helmet, “hands in.”

“I still think this is cheesy,” Cindy mumbled, putting her hand in the middle.

Liz elbowed her. “It’s a team thing. Just do it.”

Cindy, Jessie, Betty, Liz and I all put our hands in.

“On three,” I said. “One, two, three-”

“The future is female!”

We all threw our hands up.

I picked up my paintball gun, and the other girls followed suit.

Liz nudged me as we headed out onto the field. “Flash first, right?”

“Flash, then Miles, then Harry, Ned, and Peter.”

Liz nodded.

The game started, and all of us went for Flash first, shooting him as many times as we could without spending all of our paintballs.

“Hey! No fair! You ganged up on me!” he whined, after our barrage had ended.

I grinned. “All’s fair in love and war, Thompson.”

“I really hope you believe that, Jones,” Peter said. I started to turn, and got a paintball to the shoulder, knocking me on my ass. It stung, and it’d probably bruise, but that was paintball. I was more concerned with the fact that Peter had betrayed me.

“Shit.”

I heard Peter yelp and looked up. Liz had shot him.

I got up and headed off the field, ignoring Flash’s teasing.

“MJ!” Peter shouted, running after me. I turned and shot him in the chest a couple times, then laughed. “Hey, are you mad at me?”

I laughed. “It’s a game, Peter. It’s not like I haven’t betrayed you like that.”

“Yeah, but being shot in laser tag doesn’t hurt. Being shot in paintball does.”

“I just shot you back, Peter. We’re even.”

I waited until we were out of the line of fire of any of our friends, then pulled off my gloves and helmet, letting them fall to the ground. I saw Ned shoot Betty out of the corner of my eye.

“Man, last time we planned shit out, it actually went according to plan,” I mumbled.

“Our plan is working so far. Well, minus me being shot.”

I frowned. “Did you plan to shoot me?”

Peter looked at the ground. “The guys all made a pact, I didn’t have a choice.”

“So, they made you promise to shoot me?”

“Pretty much.”

“I bet that was Miles’ idea, wasn’t it?”

Peter didn’t answer. I reached up, taking his helmet off of him and tossing it on the ground, next to mine.

“Meh, doesn’t matter. As long as the girls win, you’re buying me dinner.”

He grinned. “I don’t think that’s-”

Ned and Harry wandered over to us, carrying their helmets which were covered in paint splatters.

“It’s down to Miles and Cindy.”

 I looked out to the field. Miles and Cindy were circling each other, paintball guns pointed at each other.

“Oh, no.”

I didn’t realize it until Peter winced, but I had slipped my hand into his and was now squeezing his hand way too hard. I loosened my grip.

“Sorry.”

Cindy and Miles were still circling each other. I noticed Miles didn’t even have his finger on the trigger. He had no intention of shooting her.

Of course he wouldn’t shoot her. He was still holding onto the hope that they could go back to the way things were before she got kidnapped.

But she looked so angry. Her eyes were squinted, her shoulders were tense. She was on full offence.

Miles said something, but we were too far away to hear what he said. Cindy said something back. Miles stopped circling, standing up straight. He said something and dropped his gun. Cindy shot him four or five times, then ran towards the girls on the other side of the field.

“I’ll go join them, I guess.”

I let go of Peter’s hand and started walking across the field. Miles was heading towards the guys.

“What did you tell her?”

“That she needed a win.”

He looked heartbroken as he walked past me. I made a mental note to talk to him after dinner.

I joined the girls on the other side and celebrated with them. Since we won, the guys would be comping dinner for us, as per the bet we made before the game today.

We headed out and went to dinner at the same diner we always went to. The girls all sat on one side, and the guys sat on the other. I was sitting between Jessie and Liz. Peter was sitting across from me, holding my hand in the middle of the table.

“Can you two stop being all cute and couple-y for two seconds?” Miles, who was sitting opposite Liz, complained. He stole a fry off of my plate. I smacked his hand with my free one.

“Just because your sacrifice got me free food doesn’t mean you get a free pass on fry stealing.”

Peter turned to Miles. “I’m not allowed to steal off her plate right now, either.”

“You did shoot her, Parker,” Liz pointed out, taking a sip of her milkshake.

“That was part of the plan!”

Jessie shook her head. “I can’t imagine conspiring to shoot your girlfriend.”

I frowned at her. “Do you not remember laser tag?”

“That was different. It didn’t hurt.”

She rubbed her right tricep, where she’d been shot.

“Are you bruising?” Ned asked, ever the concerned boyfriend.

“I don’t think so.”

“What about you, MJ?” Ned turned to me.

I reached up to my shoulder and pressed two fingers to the spot I’d been shot. I winced.

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

Peter looked like a kicked puppy.

“How about your chest, Peter?”

“And your back,” Liz added.

Peter shot her a playful scowl. This old pang shot through my chest as I remembered how much he pined after her during sophomore year. I shook it off. He pressed a hand to his chest. His eyes squinted, just a little, but he said, “Nope, I’m fine.”

I made a mental note of that bold-faced lie.

Liz didn’t seem to catch on, and went back to eating her food.

Flash started bragging about how he’s normally really good at paintball, and how he would’ve kicked all of our asses if we hadn’t ganged up on him. We all rolled our eyes.

I wondered why we even let him come with us.

After dinner, the guys paid, and we all went home. Peter came with me back to my place. When we got into his car, I pulled out my phone and texted Miles, asking him if he was okay.

He wasn’t. I don’t know what I expected. He was losing Cindy and he didn’t know why. None of us knew why. I doubt Cindy knew why.

We got back to my place, and went inside. There was a sticky note on the fridge from my mom.

“Took Murphy to Aunt Denise’s. You know where the liquor cabinet key is. Say hi to Peter for me. -Mom.”

I took it off the fridge and tossed it out.

“MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you mad at your mom over something? You threw that out kind of…aggressively.”

I ignored his question. “She says hi.”

I went into my room and hung up my leather jacket and put my boots back in my closet.

“MJ, what-”

“It doesn’t matter, Peter.”

“Yes, it does, because it’s clearly affecting-”

I shook my head. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“Did she do something?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know, it’s complicated.” Yeah, it was, because the whole problem was that she brought abusive men into our apartment and stood back and let them hurt me until I was nine years old. So, she did do something, but then she didn’t do something, and now it was almost eight years later and I was so fucked up because of it.

“Then tell me about it, and maybe you’ll work it out.”

“I don’t think I can.” Because he’s gonna hear it, all of it, and decide he doesn’t want me anymore. I’ll ruin his image of me, whatever it is, replacing it with the image of this broken, beat up little girl.

I can’t do that.

He seemed to realize that he was veering into the same territory as a few nights ago. He dropped it.

“Okay. Then tell me when you can.”

He turned away, looking a little hurt.

“Peter, come on-”

“Come on, what?”

“It’s date night.”

He turned around and stepped towards me, and for a moment I thought he’d kiss me, but he pulled the fabric of my shirt to the side, exposing my bruise from being shot with a paintball.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Peter-”

His voice shook. “You’ve been hurt before, and now I’ve-”

I cut him off, pulling his shirt off and pointing at the bruises on his chest. “And what did I do exactly?”

He seemed shocked that I knew he’d bruised. “But- I-”

“Can’t get anything past your very observant girlfriend.”

I tossed his shirt back towards my closet.

“Really? I don’t get that back?”

I shrugged. “Well, I don’t expect to get my clothes back once you take them off of me.”

I watched his face as it went from confusion to realization, and then he kissed me.

**September 1 st **

I told my friends that I didn’t really care about having a big birthday party, especially since it was date night and I didn’t want to have to pick between time with friends and time with Peter. Even then, Peter and I decided we’d go for a coffee date the next day, so I didn’t feel guilty about screwing with date night.

So, we all went and got pizza for dinner, and then at the end, while we were paying for food, Harry said, “Do you guys wanna come back to my place and play some video games and stuff?”

I figured why not? Cutting into my evening with Peter wasn’t too bad, considering we were going for another date the next day, which probably meant we’d spend the majority of the day together.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Once I agreed, everyone else agreed, so we headed back to Harry’s place. Peter took a wrong turn on the way there, which I thought was weird, because he knew this city like the back of his hand, but I didn’t think much of it. He was human, he had brain farts, it happened. It took us, like, an extra ten minutes to get to Harry’s but we were singing along to showtunes and having a good time, so I didn’t really mind. Quality time with Peter was quality time with Peter.

When we got to Harry’s house, the windows were dark, but all the cars were there.

“It doesn’t look like they’re in there.”

“Maybe they’re in the basement,” Peter reasoned.

I shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe.”

We went into the house and down into the dark basement. A loud _bang_ went off, and lights turned on. I was being showered in confetti.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

I laughed. “Thanks, guys.”

Someone turned on music, and the whole party started dancing all at once.

Ned and Peter came up to me.

“So, you really didn’t suspect anything?”

“Don’t sound so smug, Ned,” I said, “I only didn’t suspect anything because I was pretty sure that you were incapable of throwing a party like this.”

“Ouch,” Peter muttered, sliding an arm around my waist. I grinned at Ned’s defeat.

Ned rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome, Jones.” He walked away to go find Jessie.

Miraculously, I didn’t spend that night getting ridiculously drunk. I spent it dancing with Peter, playing dumb party games with the group, and just having a good time. It was fun. I was glad they threw the party for me.

You can probably imagine Peter and I’s afterparty, too.

**September 2 nd **

I woke up with Peter’s face buried in my neck and half of his body on top of mine. There was light streaming in through the blinds, making stripes on Peter’s back of light and shadow. I lifted my hand and ran my fingers through his hair, thinking hard. I trusted him. I loved him. He said he loved me too. Maybe it was time to open up to him, properly. Being closed off wasn’t gonna help me, or him, or us. Today was as good a time as any, right? It didn’t seem like there was any point in putting it off, and it had been weighing on me since the night I shut him out. I just wanted to get it out in the open, and hope for the best. Hopefully he meant it when he said he loved me.

Peter shifted, groaning.

“Morning,” I whispered. I prayed he couldn’t hear my voice shaking.

“Is it?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah. Sorry, babe.”

He rolled over, landing next to me. “What time is it?”

I picked my phone up off my nightstand. “Five to nine.”

He pulled his pillow over his head. “How much did I drink last night?”

I laughed. “You had maybe two beers.”

“Why do I feel like garbage?”

“Probably because you and Harry were up until two singing karaoke, and then when you and I got home at three-”

“Heh, I remember that part.”

I laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I know. It’s annoying.”

I crawled on top of him, pulling the pillow off his face. “When are you gonna take me out for that date?”

He rubbed a hand over his face, and when he opened his eyes, my shirt caught his attention.

“Is that a Spider-Man shirt?”

I looked down. It was. “Yeah.”

He frowned. “I have one just like that.”

“Probably because it’s yours, dumbass,” I teased, kissing his forehead and rolling out of bed.

“Hey! That was mean!”

“I know.”

I went to the washroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, popped my contacts in, that whole thing. Then I went back into my bedroom and tried to pick an outfit. _Hmm, what can I have a panic attack in and still look cute?_

Peter was still in bed, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Why do you have so much energy?”

Because I’m being fueled by crushing fear and anxiety. “I don’t know. The sun’s out. I had a good birthday.”

“I enjoyed your birthday, too,” Peter said suggestively.

I laughed, and I immediately knew it sounded off. Off enough that Peter would pick up on it. I pulled a white, floral dress out of my closet and turned around.

Peter was sitting up, head tilted, brows furrowed slightly.

“What?”

His brows furrowed more. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, maybe I’m just…tired.”

No, Peter, you hit the nail on the head, but I can’t tell you about my crushing anxiety because then you’ll ask why and I am dead set on telling you the details of my abusive childhood while we’re at the café so that I can’t shut you out and run away from my problems.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Alright, I’m gonna…go to the bathroom. Brush my teeth and stuff.”

“Sounds good.”

He left the room, and I changed. I tamed my curly hair a little, and then got my purse and  a pair of shoes and stood by the front door, texting Miles, hoping he’d talk me into going through with this. He didn’t respond.

Peter changed and finished getting ready and came up to the door.

“You seem tense,” he pointed out.

I put my phone in my purse and paid attention to him.

“You sure you’re alright?”

He put his hands on my shoulders, and I realized I was holding a lot of tension in them. I let go, letting my shoulders drop. I let out a breath.

“What’s bugging you?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

He frowned. “Okay.” He kissed me, then slipped his hand into mine and we went downstairs to the visitor parking lot and got into his car.

I was fidgeting the whole time.

“MJ, seriously, did something happen last night- did I do something? Did somebody else-”

“No, nothing happened last night.”

“Why are you all…antsy, then?”

I sighed. “I’m fine, Peter, I promise.”

We pulled up to the café, parked, went inside and got our coffees, then sat down.

“Okay, you’re not allowed to avoid it anymore. What’s going on?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. My hands were shaking, so I wrapped both of them around my mug and stared at the foam at the top. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. “Peter, you meant it when you said you’d be willing to listen when I was ready to talk, right?”

He didn’t say anything, so I cautiously looked up. He nodded, biting his lip.

I took a deep breath, and started talking, looking back down at my coffee. “I’m just gonna start from the first thing I remember. I think I was three, and my mom was dating this dude named Kade. He was a really heavy drinker. I remember one day I woke up from a nap and came out of my room crying for my mom, and he was so fed up with me that he broke a beer bottle on the table and pointed it at me to shut me up. Then, later, I was crying because I was hungry and hadn’t eaten in at least a day, and he just walked over and slashed my knee open with the bottle. I guess he was just one of those ‘I’m only gonna tell you once’ type of guys.”

“I thought that scar on your knee was from a fall off of a bike.”

I shook my head. “A fall off a bike warrants a lot less worry than your mom’s alcoholic boyfriend cutting your knee open with a beer bottle. I lied.”

“Oh.”

“Are you sure you want me to keep going? The stories get pretty…dark.”

Peter nodded, seeming to steel himself mentally. “I told you I’d listen. I’m listening.”

“Okay. Um.” My voice was shaking. My whole body was shaking. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it, and maybe Peter could, too. “Kade was also, like, a pretty creepy guy. He used to insist on dressing me in the mornings, and giving me baths, and just all kinds of weird, touchy, gropey shit.” I shuddered, my whole body prickling cold for a moment at the memory. “Once my mom was getting me dressed, and she put this shirt on me, and then left the room for a couple minutes, and it was just me and Kade, and I remember he, um, he took the shirt off, and he was- he was- he- he got, um, handsy. And then he put my shirt back on and my mom came back into the room and I waited for Kade to leave and told her what had happened and…she didn’t believe me.”

I took a sip of my coffee, hoping it would cure me of the growing lump in my throat.

“I believe you,” Peter assured me. He looked kind of anxious, and he was already halfway through his coffee, but it was understandable. It was a miracle I was holding it together.

Quietly, I admitted, “I think that was the day I realized I was on my own.”

I blinked a few times, trying to hold it together, then kept going.

“Her next boyfriend after that, Cody, was a drug dealer. I remember he used to threaten me with needles, which, looking back, were probably full of heroin and HIV. He never stuck me, or, at least, never got the chance to, because that was the year I met Miles and his mom, and I basically lived with them until Cody was gone. After Cody was Brandon, who was…I think just plain crazy. He was a complete sociopath. There was a stray cat that used to come up the fire escape of our old apartment, and I’d feed it whatever scraps I could scrounge up, and one day Brandon caught me feeding the cat and…he grabbed it around the neck and strangled it. Then and there.”

“How old were you?”

“Five.”

“Holy…”

“I remember him strangling the cat in, like, crystal clear detail. It was making the awful, tortured noises, and Brandon was screaming at me, and I was crying, and then when the cat went quiet, he just chucked it out the window, into the street. I wasn’t the same for weeks after that.”

Peter was practically chugging his coffee, clearly out of anxiety. I’d barely touched mine, also out of anxiety.

“Brandon was also the first one to hit me on a regular basis. Kade only ever did a couple things, and Cody was more talk than walk, but Brandon actually beat me. The first time, it was because I knocked the last little bit of a sandwich out of his hand by accident. And he just grabbed me by the throat, and I couldn’t breathe, and I was kicking and screaming and trying to get free or call my mom into the room, and he was wailing on me. I had bruises all over. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me sometimes. Once he almost threw me out a window. Once he beat me with a phone book. Once he pushed me off a swing set. But, from what I can remember, it was mostly just senseless beating.”

I took a deep, shaky breath, and looked up.

“Your mom never stopped it?”

“Nope.”

“But she was around?”

“She’d go into another room and pretend she couldn’t hear.”

Peter looked absolutely horrified. My heart sank.

“Do you- do you mind if I go get a refill?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

He got up and headed to the counter. I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. The last thing I had texted Miles was my anxieties about Peter leaving me after today.

Miles: Okay Jones you’re delusional

Miles: Nothing will make that boy leave you

Me: Let me be scared okay I don’t open up like ever

Miles: Worst case scenario he suffocates you while snuggling you to death.

I cracked a small smile. Yeah, I could see that.

Me: Okay but he’s currently freaking out

Me: I’ve only told him a couple stories and he got up and went inside to get another coffee

Miles: Understandable but who wouldn’t freak out after finding out about their significant other’s shitty childhood. I’d be mad if he didn’t.

Me: I don’t know but it’s not helping right now

Me: Like yeah I’d freak out too and probably want to murder whoever hurt him but him freaking out isn’t helping me not freak out

Miles: Okay breathe and maybe slow down on the caffeine chica. Peter is head over heels in love with you and yeah I get that spilling your traumatic backstory isn’t the most thrilling thing in the world but think about how much closer y’all will be after it’s all said and done.

Me: I’m mostly scared that he won’t want to be close to me anymore

Miles: Why wouldn’t he

Me: It’s not like it was one or two things, it was a really large portion of my childhood

Me: Why would you want someone that deeply damaged

Miles: Why would you leave someone that’s deeply damaged when they need you

Me: I don’t need him you know that

Miles: Okay I phrased it wrong but you get the idea

Me: I love him a lot and it’d kill me a little to lose him but I don’t need him

Me: If I needed anyone it’d be you Morales

Miles: I’m touched but go talk to Parker and if he does freak out and leave then we’ll write a screamo rock opera about him.

I looked at the time, then up to the counter. I couldn’t see him in the crowd of people in the pick up area.

Me: He’s been gone to get that coffee for 10 minutes who needs 10 minutes to get a coffee

Me: God I don’t want him to leave

Miles: Go check on him. Last time someone was gone for 10 minutes we didn’t get them back for a while.

Me: Fuck

He was right. But I figured if I were going to lose Peter, it wouldn’t be to Harry’s dad.

I got up and went to the crowd, just as Peter was coming out with his coffee.

“Sorry I took so long. I, um, needed a moment to process.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. Sorry I’m just, like, dumping all of this on you.”

“No, it’s fine. Just…it’s a lot.”

He planted a kiss on my cheek and we went and sat down again.

“Okay, keep going.”

I breathed out, heavily, trying to remember what was next. “I think…the next guy was…James. He was super violent, but he had one of the better jobs out of my mom’s boyfriends, so he was around for a long time, because he kept us afloat. He was the one who gave me the scars on my back.”

I remembered feeling Peter’s fingers tracing over the scars, and started to break down. I stared up at the ceiling and blinked, trying not to cry. A couple tears fell down my face, and I immediately wiped them away.

“MJ…”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, looking back down at my coffee. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start crying.”

“Don’t apologize, love.”

His voice was shaking, too.

“So, um, James was pretty explosive and unpredictable. Some days he wouldn’t pay any attention to me, but some days if he even heard me step foot outside my room he’d flip out and do the first sick, violent thing that came to mind. Once he broke my arm because I came out of my room to ask my mom for help with homework. Once he threw the cable box at me. He once pinned me to a wall and held a blade to my neck because I was begging for food, and threatened to kill me, and ended up cutting my shoulder open. The, uh, the scars on my back are from an incident where he smashed plates over my back. I think my mom yelled at him for smashing the plates, too, which is really cold.”

Peter was digging his nails into the palms of his hands, and his eyes were glistening.

“Is that why you were mad at her last week?”

I shrugged, dropping my eyes. “I don’t know. Just, you know, the night I showed you my scars kinda stirred all that stuff up for me. I know she only did what she did to keep a roof over our heads, but she never apologized or anything for what happened when I was a kid. She wasn’t even really a mother to me until she got the job she has now and we got our own place and we kicked those guys to the curb. I was mad about it out of nowhere.”

“No, it makes sense. Totally.”

“It’s just, like, I know that the reason I have a hard time trusting other people is because my mom has never been somebody I could trust to take care of me. Even now, she isn’t home half the time. Sometimes it almost feels like I live alone, or with you. Which sucks, because it’s lonely, and I know that I’ll always have Miles and Mama Morales, and I can always go over there and I’ll feel a little less…independent, I guess, but I hate feeling like a burden. Miles’ mom never asked for a second kid, you know? It’s just…I spent the first five years of my life feeling completely and totally unloved and uncared for, and now I don’t know how to actually accept love and care from other people.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Peter.”

“I know, but it- it hurts me to know what you’ve been through.”

A tear fell down his cheek. Shit.

“Peter-”

“I wish I could’ve stopped it or- or hurt one of those guys, or done anything, really.”

He was starting to sob, quietly. I reached across the table and held him hand. He sniffled.

“Sorry, I know it’s…it’s a lot.”

We finished our drinks and got back in Peter’s car. The second the doors were closed and it was just us, Peter broke down sobbing again, his whole body shaking. He dropped his head against the steering wheel. I figured there was nothing I could do to actually make him realize that there was nothing he could do, so I just reached over and ran a hand over his shoulder and back, trying to offer a little bit of comfort while he let it out.

After a couple minutes, he sniffed and wiped at his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It feels selfish to be upset over this but I can’t stop thinking about- I’ve seen your baby pictures, MJ, and I just wanna protect that little girl so she feels loved and cared for and safe.”

“Peter-”

“MJ, in the letter you wrote me, the one I found the night we got together, you told me that I make you feel safe. And I didn’t think anything of it then, but now…now I realize how important that is to you and I’m so sorry because I’ve pulled so much dumb shit on you this summer, like when Cindy went missing and-”

“Peter, you’re rambling.”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “I know.”

I leaned over and wiped the last bit of moisture from under his eyes, then kissed him. “You don’t owe me anything, okay? Not love or safety or anything.”

“But you deserve it, MJ. You deserve to feel loved and safe and it- it hurts in my _chest_ that you don’t feel any of that.”

“I’ve told you I feel safe around you. I’ve never felt so safe around anyone, okay? So don’t beat yourself up.”

“Yeah, but you don’t believe me when I tell you I love you.”

I didn’t know what to say. He was right. I didn’t believe that he loved me. I did believe that he cared about me most days, but not that he loved me, nobody how much he showed me or told me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He wrapped an arm around me, hugging me as best as you can hug someone when you’re in a car.

“It’s not your fault. I guess now I understand why you have a hard time believing it. I’ve heard your mom tell you she loves you.”

I pressed my forehead into his shoulder, biting down on my lip to stop from crying.

My phone buzzed. I got a text from Miles, asking me to come over to his place and talk to him about everything. Peter saw the text.

“Here, I’ll drop you off at Miles’ place.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I think I need to process a lot of that information, and I know you can talk to Miles about this stuff.”

“Alright.”

“Okay.”

He sniffed again and then turned the car on and drove us to Miles’ building. He parked outside, and I could see Miles waiting in the lobby for me. I got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side as Peter rolled down the window. I crossed my arms on the car door and leaned in.

“I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, “sounds good to me.”

“You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

That didn’t mean he was okay now, but I didn’t press any further.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, MJ.”

I leaned in and kissed him. “See you.”

I stepped away and he rolled up the window, then shifted gears and drove off. I went into the lobby.

“Looks like things turned out alright between you two,” Miles said with a smirk. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t pull into a back alley somewhere and get it on.”

“Come on, and make you wait to be blessed with my presence?” I teased. “You’d never survive.”

“Touché, Jones.”

We headed up to his apartment and he heated up some leftovers for me.

“So, in all seriousness, how’d it go?”

I picked up my fork and dug into Mama Morales’ lasagna. “Well, he didn’t leave me, so it went relatively well.”

“Come on, Jones, raise your standards. Tell me what happened.”

So, between mouthfuls of leftover lasagna, I told him everything. Every single detail. I told him about how I was shaking so hard I was worried I’d vibrate out of my chair, the way my heart was pounding hard enough to tenderize my sternum, and how Peter cried for me.

Once it was all out in the open, and I’d finished off the leftovers, I broke down crying so hard I couldn’t breathe.

“Hey, Jones, it’s okay.”

He came over and hugged me, rocking back and forth as I cried it out.

I hadn’t felt this strongly about this stuff in years, and it felt like opening the floodgates on all these horrible memories I hadn’t really thought about for so long. I’d been repressing the memories and the emotions that came with them, and now it was out there and I’d told somebody, for the first time in my life, and it was like a million pounds that I hadn’t even noticed were on my shoulders had all lifted at once. And, God, I was a wreck and I didn’t even know how to start picking myself up off the ground, but it felt so good. Almost like I was letting part of it go. Maybe I was starting to cope. Maybe this was the start of getting over it, if you can even get over any of that stuff.

When I’d cried it all out, I pulled away.

“Sorry for getting all my tears and snot on your shirt.”

“It’s fine, I’ll go change. It seemed like you really needed to let that out.”

He headed into his room and closed the door. I got up and washed my dishes, then a couple others that were sitting in the sink. He came out of his room with a new shirt on.

“Are you…doing the dishes for me?”

“Yeah, dude.”

I opened a drawer and found a towel to dry the dishes with. Miles chuckled.

“God, you really do live here.”

He put the dishes away as I dried them. As we were finished up, my phone started buzzing. Miles picked my phone up off the table.

“It’s your mom.”

He handed me my phone and I answered.

“Hi-”

“WHAT DID YOU TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND ABOUT ME?” Mom demanded, voice loud enough that I winced and held the phone away from my ear. Miles looked at me, concerned.

“What?”

“I SAID, MICHELLE JENSEN JONES, WHAT DID YOU TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND ABOUT ME?”

“I just told him about what my childhood was like, why?”

“I JUST HAD HIS SKINNY WHITE ASS IN HERE, SCREAMING ‘N’ SHIT AT ME, BECAUSE YOU WENT AND TOLD HIM WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU THINK I DID TO YOU!”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d-”

“YOU DIDN’T THINK HE’D WHAT? BELIEVE YOU? MICHELLE YOU’VE BEEN SPOUTING THIS BULLSHIT FOR YEARS, AND NOW YOU’RE TELLING HIM? WHAT THE FUCK?”

“It’s not bullshit, Mom, it was my childhood.” I was getting pissed. How dare she gaslight me like this to save face?

“SHOW ME THE FUCKING PROOF, MICHELLE!”

“Have you ever seen my scars?”

“THOSE WERE FROM FALLING OFF OF BIKES OR OUT OF TREES. THE ONLY PERSON AT FAULT FOR HOW YOU GREW UP IN POVERTY IS YOUR FUCKING FATHER!”

“He played a part in it, but you’re the one who moved to New York, knowing it was more expensive.”

“NAH, BITCH, YOU AIN’T GONNA TURN THIS SHIT ON ME. I DID THE BEST I COULD TO GIVE YOU A GOOD LIFE AND THIS IS HOW YOU’RE GONNA REPAY ME?”

“Mom, I’m not-”

“YOU KNOW WHAT, MICHELLE? YOU CAN SLEEP ALONE TONIGHT. I’M TAKING MURPHY TO DENISE’S.”

She hung up.

 “MJ-”

“It’s fine, Miles, you don’t have to give me that ‘kicked puppy’ look.”

“That sounded bad…”

“And yet I’ve had that conversation with her a million times.”

“That doesn’t make it less awful, sis.”

I shrugged it off. I was used to this from my mom. It barely even fazed me anymore.

At least I didn’t think it did, but that night my head was full of a thousand nightmares, all from the perspective of a small, scared, broken little girl.


	16. up in smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first part of this chapter is from MJ's POV, after the line break it's from Peter's POV (last time I did this somebody complained about redundancy so if you don't like this format, just skip one POV instead of wasting my time with a hate comment thanks)  
> songs for this chapter are 88-99 (again, thank you @itslizzyallan for doing the playlist for me!)

**September 4 th **

The first step into the school felt like coming home, in a few ways. It was a familiar routine to fall back into. It didn’t make me happy to fall back into said routine, but it was a routine nonetheless.

The first day back was spent convincing my friends not to drop out (“only one year left, Harry, you’ll survive”), hosting a decathlon meeting (“yes, Flash, I’m still captain, deal with it”), and struggling to stay awake in spite of my terrible sleeping patterns.

At the end of the day, I was putting some stuff into my locker, and getting ready to drive to NYU and pick Liz up to get coffee with me. Peter came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my cheek.

“Reporting for duty, captain.”

“Shut up, you nerd.”

“Where are you headed off to?”

“I’m gonna go catch up with Liz.”

He stuck out his bottom lip. “I was hoping you’d come back to my place and cuddle with me for a bit before I have internship stuff to do.”

I gently pushed him off of me so I could put my backpack on. “Sorry, babe. I can come over after coffee if you- actually, no, I can’t, I have to go to dinner with my dad.”

“You guys still getting along?”

“Yeah, actually, we’re really close now. It’s nice.”

“That’s good. Okay, I’m gonna go find Ned and ask him if he wants to watch a movie with me tonight. You have fun with Liz,” he said, brushing some hair away from my face.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He kissed me goodbye, then ran off down the hallway. I watched him with a smile on my face.

Loser.

I headed out to the student parking lot, got in my car, and headed to campus. I picked up Liz, and we found a cute café to sit down in.

The day had felt long and tiring, yet it’d gone by so fast. We sat and chatted, talking about university and senior year and everything that had happened in the last few days. Liz and I were easing back into our old friendship, before Peter unintentionally drove a wedge between us without even knowing.

As I drove her home, I realized that things were falling together right now. I was decathlon captain, my dad and I were getting along, Peter still loved me despite everything I’d told him, Liz and I were close again, and everything felt fine. There was the odd thing, like Flash being a dick (as per usual) and my mom being pissed off at me right now, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. Fall seemed warm and cozy and _good_ , and I was so ready for something good to stick around.

After I dropped Liz off, I went home and got ready for dinner. It was dinner with the family, which made me nervous. My dad and I got along well, and so did my half-siblings and I, but my dad’s wife seemed to hate me. It was understandable. I was a walking, talking reminder of his relationship with my mom, and even though there was no overlap, there was a very short gap between the two relationships. I could see why she’d dislike me. I still didn’t like it, though.

I got dressed, and then went over to my dad’s place.

There was a big, fancy dinner set up. Chefs cooking in the kitchen, a string quartet playing in the corner. It wasn’t just my dad’s family. It was a couple of his business partner’s families too.

My half-brother, Elijah, ran up to me as I walked in.

“MJ!”

He hugged me. “I missed you.”

“We worked out together, like, a week and a half ago.”

“I’m allowed to miss you, especially when I live with this crackhead of a sister.”

“Hey!”

Charlie waltzed over, looking very classy and elegant for a girl who was turning 15 in a couple months. “If anyone here is on drugs, it’s you, Eli.”

I pushed Eli away to hug Charlie. “How you doing, hun?”

“Better now that you’re here. Mom’s had a stick up her ass for the past couple weeks. We need some relief.”

I laughed. “I’m glad I’m a valued member of this family.”

“Of course!” Eli said. “Now, come on, we gotta play it cool in front of these old rich white guys. None of that crackhead shit that Charlie’s on.”

“Eli, I swear, you’re gonna get your ass whooped.”

“By you and what muscles, _Charlotte_?”

Charlie’s nostrils flared. Charlotte was not her name of choice.

“Down, girl, let’s just go mingle with all the rich white dudes so we can make fun of them later,” I suggested, looping my arm through hers and leading her further into the house, to where all the rich white dudes were sitting drinking whiskey in the living room.

“There they are!” my dad’s voice came. He stood up and came over to the three of us. “You all know Elijah and Charlotte.”

Eli and Charlie waved.

“Now, gentlemen, this is my oldest, MJ. MJ, these are my business partners.”

I smiled. “Lovely to meet you all.” Man, it sounded so fake coming out of my mouth, but they all drank it up.

“Eli, Char, go help your mother. MJ, would you like to join us?”

“Uh, sure.”

I assumed he only sent off Eli and Charlie because they’d met everyone before. Judging by the looks on their faces as they headed towards the kitchen, they were grateful to have been relieved of mingling duties.

I sat down next to my dad on the couch, and half-listened to the conversations. They were all gun-toting ignorant white guys, but they were kind of entertaining to listen to. I did have to resist the urge to tell them off, though.

“Would you go get me another drink, sweetheart?”

It took me a second to realize what was happening. I looked the man in the eye, and gave him a chance to rephrase.

“I’m sorry?”

“Would you go get me another drink, please, sweetheart?”

I blinked. “I’m not a waitress.”

“Patrick,” my dad said, his tone a little on edge.

“I’m just asking her for-”

“Patrick.” His tone was firmer, leaving no room for argument.

It was a weird, little thing, but it was a gesture of caring. He wasn’t letting that dude walk all over me.

Huh. A parent actually being protective of their child. That’s a new feeling.

Not that I needed him to fight my battles or anything, but it was kinda nice. My dad had my back.

“Go get your own refill, Patty,” Dad suggested.

Patrick got up, muttering to himself. I looked around the room. For the most part, they seemed pretty pleased with my dad. A couple seemed disgruntled, but that was their own problem.

“MJ, how do you feel about concealed weapon laws?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think we should have the right to concealed weapons?”

I snorted. “No, that’s dangerous.”

The guy who asked the question raised his eyebrows. “How so?”

“How is carrying a concealed firearm dangerous?”

My dad cut in before I got riled up, knowing how passionate I am about gun control. “I think I heard Eli call you from the kitchen, honey.”

I gave him a (slightly) dirty look before I gave his colleagues the sweetest smile and left the living room.

“Wow, MJ lasted a whole…twelve minutes and forty-four seconds with Dad’s business partners. You owe me ten bucks, Charlie.”

Charlie huffed and dug a bill out of her pocket. “Shoulda snapped sooner, Jones.”

“You guys betted on me?”

They looked at each other. “Yeah,” Eli admitted sheepishly.

I crossed my arms. “I want a cut. I participated. I made you your money.”

Charlie snickered.

“Oh, shut up, Char, I’d do the same to you, and you know it.”

Eli elbowed her, sticking his tongue out.

“Y’all act like five-year-olds.”

“Sue me,” Charlie said, completely deadpan.

“Kids! Help me set the table please!” their mom called.

I went with them to help set up, which Mrs. Jensen seemed to appreciate in a quiet, slightly cold way.

As she handed me the napkins to set out, I noticed her dress was stretched a little tight around her stomach. It was a fairly tight dress, though, and it was late in the day, so it was probably nothing.

Although, through dinner, she was the only adult drinking something that wasn’t alcohol, which I found…strange. Eli always made it sound like she was on the verge of alcoholism. But it looked like she was just drinking water tonight.

My immediate thought was pregnancy, but that was probably jumping to conclusions. Besides, I doubted that’s the kind of secret my dad would keep from me.

Dinner went pretty smoothly. I got to kick my siblings under the table, charm the pants off of some rich white dudes, and my dad even looked proud of me at the end of the night.

I stayed after dinner to help clean up and everything, and once most of the kitchen was cleaned up, my dad walked into the kitchen and said, “Can I steal MJ for a second?”

Eli and Charlie shrugged. Mrs. Jensen didn’t respond.

“Alright, MJ, get your things. I’ll walk you to your car.”

I got my coat and purse from the closet at the front, and joined my dad for the walk outside.

“Thank you for coming tonight, honey. I know you probably had better things today since school started.”

“Of course, Dad.”

He smiled. “I just…wanted to tell you that I’m really proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

We got to my car. “Oh, and I do have a birthday present for you, it just doesn’t get here until next week.”

I shrugged. “That’s fine. Just call me when you get it and we can go for dinner or something.”

“Sounds good, honey.” He gave me a tight hug. I loved his hugs. I remembered his smell from when I was a kid, and it was a nice feeling to smell that again. “Drive safe. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I got in the car, and waved at him before I drove off. He stood there and waved, watching me drive off for a few seconds before heading back inside.

I got home and finally opened my phone. Peter had blown it up at dinner with sweet messages. I called him.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey, love, what’s up?” he asked.

“I just got home.”

“Oh, how was dinner?”

“It was really nice. Got to hang out with Eli and Charlie, and my dad told me he’s proud of me. It went really well.”

“That’s good. Did you get my messages?”

“I did, that’s why I called you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. I’m actually doing some internship stuff right now, so I can’t really talk, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you picking me up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Alright. Love you, Peter. See you in the morning.”

“Love you, too.”

He hung up.

It was stupid, but the barrage of cute messages from him made me feel a little better about the stuff that I’d told him the other day. I felt like I was still holding my breath, waiting for him to dump me, but the messages were a little bit of confirmation that I was stuck with him.

I got ready for bed, and got under the covers with a smile on my face.

**September 7 th **

I met Peter at school in the morning, and he helped me study for the chem lab we had today.

“Peter, I get the actual theory behind distillation, and I can do the math, but actually doing it is completely different.”

“Do you want me to be your lab partner today? I can help you through it.”

I sighed. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He smiled. “Well, don’t look so disappointed.”

“I just don’t like asking for help.”

“I know.”

He leaned over the table and kissed me softly.

“Aw, come on, we’re not even safe at school?” Ned whined, coming up to our table.

I looked at my phone. “School doesn’t start for 45 minutes, and we’re in a quiet corner of the library. If you can see us kissing, you sought it out.”

“No, I sought out Peter so I could ask him if we’re going shopping tonight so he can buy a new lightsaber since he broke mine last night.”

I stifled a laugh. I was there when that happened. I had a video, too.

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask Mr. Stark if he wants me on internship duty tonight.”

Ned’s eyes narrowed a little at the word “internship”. I remembered a clip I saw from July, when Peter was on the internship retreat and got hurt. I saw a news clip of a car being dropped on Spider-Man, the tire rolling over his torso. It would’ve been consistent with the bruising on Peter’s torso, and it made sense that Spider-Man’s super strength would prevent any serious injury.

Internship duty meant Spider-Man duty. Ned’s reaction seemed to solidify that theory just a little.

I looked back down at my notes. “Wait, do we have to do a stoichiometry worksheet for the lab today?” Peter nodded. I dropped my head onto the table. “Is it too late to drop out of school and become a stripper?”

“You could probably do prostitution. It pays a lot more, and Peter’s said you give really good bl-”

I looked up in time to see Peter elbow him in the ribs, hard enough to knock the air out of him for a second. I smirked.

“Ned!” Peter’s voice cracked as he scolded Ned.

“Sorry.”

I laughed as Peter turned pink. “You’re cute.”

He dropped his head, curls falling forward and bouncing a little.

“Look what you did, Ned, you made him all flustered and shy,” I scolded, abandoning my notes and moving to a chair closer to Peter. I took his face in both of my hands, turned him to face me, and kissed him. Ned made a gagging sound behind us. I pulled away, giving Ned a pointed look. “Ned, I have some very intimate details about you and Jessie, so I suggest you shut it.”

Ned turned bright red. “Aw, come on, girls talk about everything.”

Peter frowned. “So do we.”

We sat around and talked for a while before we all had to head off to class.

“I’ll see you in chem, Peter.”

“Yep, sounds good.”

I planted a kiss on his lips before heading off to class.

My first block class turned out to be an hour and a half of my teacher lecturing us about using our time wisely, and, ironically, wasting our time. I texted Miles under my desk the whole time. He was in a class across the hall, and could see me through the open doors. He made faces to keep me entertained through the class.

Second block, I had Chem with Peter, so I headed to my locker, then met Peter at his locker and we headed to class. We sat near the back. Peter joked about us having easy access to the supply closet in case I screwed up our lab and needed more chemicals. It earned him a light punch to the arm. I got all of our safety materials for us while Peter prepped our chemicals.

“Do you want me to do the worksheets and you do the lab?” I suggested, hoping he’d do the part I was bad at for me.

“Nope. You’re not getting out of this. You gotta get better at it somehow.”

“Peter, come on, just-”

A muffled _BANG_ came from the supply closet. Peter immediately scooted his chair behind me, shielding me from behind. Then, there was a hiss, and a loud _FWOOSH_ as the door burst into flames. I yelped, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. The room quickly filled with smoke, the fire spreading along the wall quickly. I figured Peter was right behind me, until I got outside and turned around…and he was nowhere to be found.

“Peter?”

I found my chemistry teacher and most of my class, and figured Peter would be with them, but he wasn’t. I texted the group chat. Nobody had seen him. I waited a few minutes, contemplating the possibilities. But the group was spread out over the whole campus, almost every muster point. Someone would’ve seen Peter if he’d gotten out.

If.

Fuck it. He’d do the same for me.

I dropped my bag with my teacher and ran back into the building, dodging anybody who tried to stop me.

Inside, it was smoky and hot, and the fire alarm was going off. It was very overwhelming. But I had to find Peter.

I checked quickly in every classroom I passed, making my way up to our chemistry classroom. It took a few minutes. I was going slow, bending down since smoke rises and I needed some semblance of clean air. I snaked through the hallways, not seeing any sign of life in the building. I kept texting the group chat, hoping someone had seen him.

Nothing.

I found the chemistry classroom, which was engulfed in flames. It was too hot to go near, let alone go into. The flames were spreading, too, down the halls, burning through message boards and posters stuck to walls at an alarming rate.

There’s no way Peter was still in there.

I found a safer part of the building. My chest was getting tight, and I was getting dizzy, but nobody had seen Peter.

I should’ve looked over my shoulder. I should’ve made sure he was behind me. I should’ve grabbed his hand.

Miles kept texting me, begging me to leave the building. Eventually, I got so dizzy and breathless that if I stayed in here, I’d be toast. I started to head out of the building, but it was much smokier now than when I entered. I felt sick.

Clean air. My lungs were screaming for clean air. My chest burned, felt like it was closing in on itself. My eyes burned, and teared up, trying to clean out the smoke. The room was…swaying. Or maybe I was. I couldn’t feel my feet, I didn’t think. Or maybe my brain was focused on more important things. Like clean air. Which I desperately needed.

I had to stop, down the hall from the east entrance to the building, and sat down. I texted Miles, letting him know where I was, and that I was likely about to pass out, then put my phone back in my pocket and stared at the wall through a grey haze. I couldn’t get in a breath. My lungs were full of smoke.

For a moment, I was overcome with the feeling that I was about to die. Then, my whole body relaxed, and my vision went black.

I remember bits and pieces of the next couple minutes. I remember hearing Miles call my name. I remember a paramedic picking me up and carrying me out. I remember Miles sitting next to me, supporting my weight as the paramedic put an oxygen mask on me. I remembered gasping for air. But I wasn’t completely conscious for all of it. It’s snippets and vague blinks of memory, but nothing solid.

I did wake up leaning on Miles, though, and I did have an oxygen mask on. I felt groggy and dazed.

“Are you awake?” Miles asked gently.

I tried to speak, but coughed into the mask.

“Don’t say anything, MJ, just breathe.”

I didn’t listen. “Peter.”

“He’s okay. He’s on his way over here.”

I felt a lot better knowing that. I closed my eyes and focused on taking in deep breaths. I kept coughing, and it hurt my chest, but my throat and lungs felt clearer the more I coughed. Miles rubbed a hand over my back.

“You feeling okay?”

I nodded. “Getting better.”

“They, um, they found out it was a faulty bomb that went off.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Why?”

“We heard a bang.”

A few seconds later, Peter ran over, out of breath. “Sorry, I got here as soon as I realized- I’m-”

“Take a breather, dude,” Miles said.

Peter stopped, sitting next to me and kissing my temple, then panting until his breathing was normal again.

“Miles, can you give us a minute?”

Miles nodded. “Text me if you need anything, sis.”

He stood up and walked away.

“How are you feeling, MJ?”

I scoffed, which turned into a coughing fit. Peter put a hand on my shoulder, stabilizing me. When it died down, I laughed. “I was gonna say I’m feeling better, but…”

He smiled weakly. He waited for me to recover a bit more, then asked, “Why’d you run back in?”

“What?”

“Did you run back in for me?” He looked sad and simultaneously hopeful. Maybe hopeful that he was wrong. But he wasn’t. I had.

“You’d do the same for me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something, but the paramedic came back around.

“Okay, you’ve been on oxygen for ten minutes. How are you feeling?”

I blinked, trying to assess how I was feeling, as opposed to when I came to a few minutes ago. “I feel more alert and awake. Not completely, but more.”

“Okay. Is breathing getting easier?”

I nodded.

“Are you in any physical pain?”

I frowned. “My chest feels tight, like there’s something pressing my ribs in.”

The paramedic nodded. “Is it loosening up?”

I nodded.

“Alright. I’m gonna take you off the oxygen. You’ll make a full recovery in the next couple days, just make sure you avoid any strenuous exercise and drink a lot of water.”

I nodded again. The paramedic took the mask off me, and Peter and I got off the backseat of the ambulance. We walked over to a bench and sat down. Normal air felt weird in my mouth and in my throat, but slowly went back to the way it always felt.

Peter kept a hand on my shoulder, absent-mindedly massaging my shoulder. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Peter, you put yourself between me and the supply closet. You’ve been willing to take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, but- but I don’t want you to do that for me.”

“I don’t want you to do it for me, either.”

He sighed, dropping his head. “No, I- I should protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go outside alone today.”

“Why? Because I’m a girl?”

“No! No. Just…I had this feeling that something bad was gonna happen today.”

“You’re not psychic, Peter. You don’t have a responsibility to know what’s going to happen, or protect me from the future.”

He shook his head, and didn’t say anything.

“Where were you? I turned around and you were gone.”

“I took the back door of the classroom. I thought I’d heard somebody running after the bang, and I ran out to see if I could- I don’t know.”

I sighed, leaning against him.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have- I should’ve at least made sure you were okay, or texted you once I got out, or something. I wasn’t really thinking.”

“It’s not on you, Peter. I chose to go back in.”

“I know, but you wouldn’t have if-”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything. You did this with Cindy. Not everything is your fault, Peter. You can’t save everyone, and you can’t stop bad things from happening.”

He tensed up a little, but relaxed just as quickly. “Okay.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Peter reached for his phone at the same time I reached for mine.

I had an email from the principal. We had to go to all our afternoon classes. Any classes in the science building were redistributed around the school.

“Typical,” I scoffed. “A bomb goes off in the school and they move us around a little.”

“It was a bomb?”

“Yeah. Faulty bomb.”

Peter froze up. “Okay. Do you mind if I find Ned and Harry? We had lunch plans.”

I nodded. “Sure. I was gonna hang out with Miles, anyway.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

He kissed me, briefly, then got up and headed towards the south side of the school campus.

I texted Miles, and he met me at the bench, then we got in his car and went for lunch.

“You feeling better?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Lots better.”

“That’s good.”

We went to Denny’s and sat down with some pancakes. We chatted. I let Miles talk more, since I was still kind of catching my breath and coughing up soot and stuff. He talked about how pissed he was about Cindy and one of the new kids, Matty, getting all close. He noticed Matty cuddling up to her after the fire, and it hurt him. It made sense. He never got closure with Cindy, and all of us felt tension between them, but Cindy refused to talk to him, look at him, acknowledge his existence. She still wasn’t talking about what happened to her when Harry’s dad took her, but it probably traumatized her quite a lot. It probably had a lot to do with why she wasn’t acting like herself, and Miles knew that, but it didn’t help. He wanted to punch Matty.

My phone buzzed on the table. I flipped it over.

Peter: Hey do you mind meeting me behind the main building after fourth

Peter: Around the corner from the parking lot

“Who is it?” Miles asked through a mouthful of pancake.

“Peter.”

Miles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I rolled my eyes.

Me: Yeah sure

Peter: Thanks see you later

Miles and I finished eating, drove around for a bit, then headed back to school.

My afternoon classes were pretty boring in comparison to the drama of the fire. I sat near the back and doodled, eventually filling a whole page with fire- and smoke-related drawings.

The second the last bell rang, I went to my locker, grabbed my homework for the weekend, and headed out to the main building. I rounded the corner behind the building, and saw Peter standing there, hands in his pockets, kicking pebbles or something on the ground.

“Hey.”

He looked up, then took a few fast, long strides towards me, grabbed my face in both hands, and kissed me. I froze. He was tense. His hands were shaking. He pulled away, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Peter?” He didn’t say anything. “Peter, you’re scaring me.”

“We-I-I can’t- you could’ve died today, MJ, and-and that would’ve been my fault, and I have to- MJ, I love you and I have to protect you.” He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. I frowned.

“Peter, what are you trying to say?”

The pebbles he was kicking were seemingly fascinating to him. “I-I-I’m breaking up with you.”

It was like a bus had hit me. My whole body immediately felt hot, then cold, then numb. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- MJ, I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

Oh. I realized it wasn’t about the fire. “You- no. No, that’s not what this is about. This isn’t about the fire, or your blame complex, or any of that.” I was shaking and angry and my whole body felt like it was heating up from the inside out. Like I’d swallowed some of the fire when I was in the building earlier.

“MJ-”

“No, this is about what I told you. You wanted a way out with-without looking like the bad guy, and this fire is the perfect opportunity for you to-to dump me and make excuses and lie to me-”

“Stop, MJ, I would never-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing, Parker!”

“No, MJ, please, I need you to trust me. This is for your own good.”

“What, like I can’t take care of myself? Like I haven’t been taking care of myself my whole life?”

“You don’t know what we’re dealing with here-”

“Then enlighten me, Parker. Tell me what we’re dealing with.”

His hands shook by his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to protect you.”

“That’s fucking bullshit, Parker. I don’t need your fucking protection. You know exactly what I can handle. That’s the problem. I finally open up, spill my guts, trust you with _everything_ , and you dump me on my ass, what, five days later? This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew it’d end here, having this conversation. I fucking knew it.”

“It has nothing to do with that!” he protested, finally looking me in the eye.

I scoffed. “How can you look me in the eye and lie like that, Parker? Just admit it. I’m not the girl you thought I was, and you can’t love me anymore. I wouldn’t fucking blame you but at least tell me the truth so I can still respect you after all of this.”

“I-I can’t tell you that. It’s not true.”

“It’s not true my ass. Then tell me the fucking truth.”

Come on, Peter, tell me the truth about your internship. Tell me you’re Queens’ favourite web-slinger. Tell me the big secret. Trust me with everything the way I trusted you.

“I can’t.” I let out a breath, exasperated. “I can’t put you in danger like that. I-I love you too much-”

“Right,” I snapped. “Because people hurt the people they love on purpose.”

“I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you, MJ, but it’s either I hurt you like this or someone else hurts you and maybe it’s worse-”

“I’ve been through the worst. I’ve been through it _all_ , Parker. Nothing is worse than this.”

He looked up at me, eyes glistening. “MJ, please-”

“My friends call me MJ,” I spat, crossing my arms. His whole face fell. Even his shoulders.

“Mi-Michelle-”

“Don’t even try to pretend you give a shit. You’re a bad actor. I’m done. Go fuck yourself, Parker.”

I turned and stormed off, towards the parking lot, heart shattered.

That was it. Just like that.

Poof.

Done.

* * *

“I’ll see you in chem, Peter.”

“Yep, sounds good.”

MJ leaned in and kissed me, then headed off to class. Ned and I stayed in the library for a few more minutes to avoid the hallway traffic, then slid into class at the last second, landing in our seats just before the second bell.

“Parker, Leeds, cutting it close today, are we?”

I kept my head down, accepting the worksheet as our teacher handed it to me.

First block went by achingly slow. I wanted to sit in Chem and tease MJ and help her with the lab.

When the bell rang at the end of class, my whole body felt like an electric shock went though it. The hair on my arm stood up, and I felt sick to my stomach. Apparently, Ned knew the look on my face very well.

“Spidey sense?”

I nodded. Something bad was going to happen, I could feel it.

“You have Chem next, right?”

“Yeah.”

Ned smacked his bag. “I have spare cartridges in here if you need them. Text me if anything happens.”

“Thanks, man.”

We did our handshake, then headed out to our lockers.

MJ met me at my locker, and we headed to class. The feeling that something was going to happen got worse, my stomach sinking the closer we got to class. I pulled her to the back of the class, away from the windows, making some stupid joke about keeping her near the supply closet in case she screwed up our lab. She laughed and smacked my arm.

We sat down and got set up.

“Do you want me to do the worksheets and you do the lab?” she asked, pleading with her eyes for me to let her off the hook. She was adorable, but it wasn’t gonna work on me today.

“Nope.” I shook my head, and her face dropped. “You’re not getting out of this. You gotta get better at it somehow.”

“Peter, come on, just-”

BANG

I scooted behind her, putting myself between her and whatever had happened in the supply closet. For a second, I thought I overreacted, and something had just fallen, and then the door burst into flames, smoke quickly filling the room.

MJ got up before I did, pulling her bag over her shoulders. Of course, she took her bag. It had her sketchbook in it.

I followed her for a few steps, and then heard something from the supply closet. I turned and left through the back door of the classroom. I didn’t see anyone, but my gut was telling me to keep going this way. I ran towards the north side of the building, but then the feeling faded. I didn’t know what I was chasing, and the feeling guiding me was gone. I resigned myself to exiting in an orderly fashion with everyone else.

I ended up away from all of my friends. MJ was probably at the east muster point. Ned, Harry, and Miles were definitely in other buildings. Cindy and Matty were probably on the north side of the science building.

But none of the teachers would let me leave to go find them. I had to stay put.

I paced. A lot. That…whatever it was…was scary close to MJ and I. Maybe it was…planned? No, it was probably some chemicals that fell over and caused a reaction or something. It was fine.

It’d be fine.

I paced for a few more minutes, trying to convince myself to ignore the gut feeling, trying to convince myself it was just some freak accident.

I realized my phone had been blowing up. I had a million texts from the group chat, and then a bunch from Miles.

MJ had run back into a burning building, and was now unconscious.

Shit.

I ignored the teacher who yelled at me as I ran, but a couple kids tried to stop me. One of them being Flash. Ellie, one of the new girls this year, was standing behind him. She cringed when he called me “Penis Parker”, but didn’t stop him.

I pushed past them, and then had to be careful to avoid any teachers as I made my way around to the east side of the building.

It took me a while, but eventually I could see an ambulance, parked in the field, with two kids sitting on the back of it. MJ was leaning against Miles, looking pretty out of it. She had an oxygen mask on. I ran over. She perked up a little when she noticed me, but her eyes were half-closed and it was obvious her breathing was laboured.

“Sorry, I got here as soon as I realized- I’m-”

“Take a breather, dude,” Miles said.

I took his advice, shutting my mouth. I sat next to MJ, kissing her temple and catching my breath.

“Miles, can you give us a minute?”

He gave me a nod. “Text me if you need anything, sis.”

He stood up and left.  

“How are you feeling, MJ?”

She scoffed, then started coughing. The oxygen mask fogged up, and her whole face twisted in pain. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to stabilize her as she leaned forward.

When she stopped coughing, she laughed humourlessly. “I was gonna say I’m feeling better, but…”

I smiled, just to try to make her feel better. I gave her a moment, until her shoulders relaxed a bit more. “Why’d you run back in?”

“What?”

“Did you run back in for me?” _Please say no. Please say no. Please say no._

“You’d do the same for me.”

Fuck.

And then the paramedic that had been taking care of MJ came around the ambulance, interrupting me before I got the chance to speak.

He asked her a few questions, then took her off the oxygen and kicked us off the ambulance so he could close the doors. We went and sat on a bench nearby.

I was rubbing her shoulder, imagining all the possible outcomes where she’d been seriously hurt. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

“Peter, you put yourself between me and the supply closet. You’ve been willing to take a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, but- but I don’t want you to do that for me.”

“I don’t want you to do it for me, either.”

I dropped my head forward, letting out a breath. “No, I- I should protect you. I shouldn’t have let you go outside alone today.”

“Why? Because I’m a girl?”

“No! No. Just…I had this feeling that something bad was gonna happen today.”

“You’re not psychic, Peter. You don’t have a responsibility to know what’s going to happen, or protect me from the future.”

But I did. I knew. I had the ability to protect her. If I couldn’t protect MJ, the person I loved most, what was the point of having my abilities?

“Where were you? I turned around and you were gone.”

I sputtered, looking for an answer. “I took the back door of the classroom. I thought I’d heard somebody running after the bang, and I ran out to see if I could- I don’t know.”

She sighed, leaning into my side.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have- I should’ve at least made sure you were okay, or texted you once I got out, or something. I wasn’t really thinking.”

“It’s not on you, Peter. I chose to go back in.”

“I know, but you wouldn’t have if-”

“Stop blaming yourself for everything. You did this with Cindy. Not everything is your fault, Peter. You can’t save everyone, and you can’t stop bad things from happening.”

I hadn’t cared about saving everyone, though. I mean, yeah, I generally wanted to save every single person who was in danger, but Miles told me that she had run back in, and she was all I cared about in that moment. “Okay.”

At the same time, MJ and I both reached for our phone. We got the email telling us to go to our afternoon classes.

“Typical. A bomb goes off in the school and they move us around a little.”

“It was a bomb?” I asked. This was news to me.

“Yeah. Faulty bomb.”

Oh, no. That meant my gut feeling was right. Everything was not fine. Maybe Liz’s dad had told someone who I was. Maybe the secret was out. Maybe I’d been targeted. Maybe I’d been the one who put MJ in danger. I felt myself freezing up, and I could see her noticing it, but I couldn’t stop it. “Okay. Do you mind if I find Ned and Harry? We had lunch plans.”

“Sure. I was gonna hang out with Miles, anyway.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later.”

I kissed her quickly, then ran off to the south side of campus. When I got there, it was just Ned.

“Harry’s off with Connor,” Ned sighed.

“Good. Can we- can we go for lunch?”

“Peter, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I- Ned, let’s just go.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

We headed to my car, and the second the doors were closed and nobody could hear us, I spilled.

“MJ said there was a bomb planted in the supply closet, and that’s what went off, and-”

“Whoa, a bomb? But I thought it was just a fire.”

“There was this loud bang that came from the supply closet, which was right behind MJ and I, and I thought maybe some chemicals got knocked over and there was a reaction, but, Ned, somebody planted a bomb. If that had gone off…”

“Stop. You can’t-”

“No, Ned, you don’t understand. Liz’s dad is still in prison, sure, but he knows who I am. He could’ve told somebody so they could come after me.”

“Okay, so ask Tony what to do.”

I dropped my head against the steering wheel. “No, I already know what I have to do. I have to keep her safe. She would’ve- I can’t even think about what would’ve happened if the bomb hadn’t been faulty, Ned.” That awful shaky feeling sat in my chest, and my heartbeat was erratic. “I was kidding myself thinking that nobody would ever target her.” I was starting to choke up.

“Peter- Peter, you can’t do this. She makes you so happy. You make her so happy.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Her safety comes first. I- Ned, I can’t believe I let myself believe that nothing like this would ever happen.”

“You don’t even know if someone knows about you, Peter. For all you know it’s-”

“It doesn’t matter. Somebody’s gonna figure out who I am, and then they’ll figure out we’re together, and she’ll be directly in the line of fire and she won’t even know. I can’t let MJ get hurt.”

Ned shrugged. “Then tell her?”

“Are you serious, man? That puts her in so much more danger!” I leaned back against the chair. “Let’s just go get McDonald’s.”

I turned on the engine, shifted gears, and pulled out of my parking spot.

“Peter…”

My hands were shaking, my face felt cold, my stomach was turning. But I had to do it. It was going to kill me, but I’d rather it kill me than her.

“I can’t get her hurt, Ned.”

“Don’t you think that maybe you should talk to her? Just tell her you’re Spider-Man and let her decide if she’s willing to put herself in the crosshairs.”

“No. She ran into a burning building for me today. She will throw herself in the crosshairs.”

“You’d do it for her.”

“Yeah, but I’m…Ned, I’m Spider-Man. It’s different. I walked away from getting a building dropped on me. I walked away from getting stabbed. It’s less life-threatening.”

“But it doesn’t mean any less,” Ned said.

I didn’t say anything. We went and got fries and milkshakes and drove to a park and sat on a bench and ate, mostly in silence. I texted MJ and asked her to meet me after school, and she agreed.

“It’s gonna suck, isn’t it?”

Ned nodded. “Yeah.”

My nose started to tingle the way it does before you start to cry. I forced myself to breathe through it. I wasn’t going to cry before I ended things with her, because the second I cried, it felt like confirmation. I had to do it.

“I don’t want to see her cry,” I admitted quietly, dipping a fry into my milkshake. “I’ve seen her cry before and it’s…it’s gonna break my heart.” I remembered when she was drunk and crying when we fought after Cindy went missing. Or the night she broke down and cried in my arms until she fell asleep when Harry and I were staying over. The worst was when she shed a couple tears talking about her childhood. When I could tell there was years of pain under the surface, and I couldn’t do anything to help her.

“You don’t have to break up with her.”

“Yes, I do. It’s gonna hurt like hell, but it’d hurt more if something happened to her.”

Ned pressed his lips together. “Do you want me to come over tonight?”

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to you later about it.”

I tossed the rest of my McDonald’s. I felt too sick to eat it anyways.

“Let’s head back to school.”

My afternoon classes went by too fast. I wanted to put this off. I didn’t want to see the look on MJ’s face when I ended things. I didn’t want her to see the look on my face. I’d probably start crying before I even told her.

After class, I waited for her behind the main building. My whole body was shaking, and there was a thick lump in my throat. I stared at the ground.

“Hey.”

She rounded the corner, and all I could think was that I needed one last kiss from her. I ran towards her, grabbing her face with both hands, and kissed her. I pulled away, shaking, and couldn’t meet her eyes. I didn’t know if I could do this.

“Peter? Peter, you’re scaring me.”

I sputtered, “We-I-I can’t- you could’ve died today, MJ, and-and that would’ve been my fault, and I have to- MJ, I love you and I have to protect you.” I kicked at the ground, struggling to pull myself together. My nose stung and my eyes prickled.

“Peter, what are you trying to say?” Her voice was soft. Scared. I swore I could feel my heart breaking.

“I-I-I’m breaking up with you.” The second the words were out of my mouth, I regretted it. I wanted to take it back. I wanted to tell her I was kidding, and we should go get dinner and see a movie and laugh about what a bad joke that was.

But I couldn’t do it. Because that could get her killed.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- MJ, I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” I told her, pleading with her to understand.

“You- no. No, that’s not what this is about. This isn’t about the fire, or your blame complex, or any of that.” Her voice suddenly went hard and cold. She was pissed.

“MJ-”

“No, this is about what I told you. You wanted a way out with-without looking like the bad guy, and this fire is the perfect opportunity for you to-to dump me and make excuses and lie to me-”

“Stop, MJ, I would never-”

“That’s exactly what you’re doing, Parker!”

“No, MJ, please, I need you to trust me. This is for your own good.”

“What, like I can’t take care of myself? Like I haven’t been taking care of myself my whole life?” She sounded so, so mad. And I could see why. I’d betrayed the trust she had in me. But her mom’s shitty exes weren’t like The Vulture. She couldn’t take care of herself in a situation like that.

“You don’t know what we’re dealing with here-”

“Then enlighten me, Parker. Tell me what we’re dealing with.”

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to pull the web shooters and the mask out of my bag and tell her everything, and apologize for lying to her for so long, and to fix all of this and take her home and have dinner with her and Aunt May. I wanted to be able to tell her without worrying about getting her hurt.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to protect you.”

“That’s fucking bullshit, Parker. I don’t need your fucking protection. You know exactly what I can handle. That’s the problem. I finally open up, spill my guts, trust you with _everything_ , and you dump me on my ass, what, five days later? This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew it’d end here, having this conversation. I fucking knew it.”

“It has nothing to do with that!” I looked up at her, and realized I’d shouted. But she was staring at me with ice cold eyes.

And it hit me, right then. She wasn’t mine anymore.

“How can you look me in the eye and lie like that, Parker? Just admit it. I’m not the girl you thought I was, and you can’t love me anymore. I wouldn’t fucking blame you but at least tell me the truth so I can still respect you after all of this.”

“I-I can’t tell you that. It’s not true.”

I couldn’t tell her how much I loved her as I was breaking up with her. I couldn’t tell her how absolutely perfect she was. I couldn’t sit her down and explain that I would never judge her for how she was treated. She wouldn’t believe me anyways.

“It’s not true my ass. Then tell me the fucking truth.”

Come on, Peter, resist the urge. Don’t tell her that you got the fancy suit from Mr. Stark and that you’ve fought Captain America. Don’t tell her the big secret. Don’t tell her the one thing that you want to tell her the most.

 “I can’t.” She let out a breath, and I could feel her growing more and more distant. “I can’t put you in danger like that. I-I love you too much-”

“Right,” she cut in. “Because people hurt the people they love on purpose.”

“I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you, MJ, but it’s either I hurt you like this or someone else hurts you and maybe it’s worse-”

“I’ve been through the worst. I’ve been through it _all_ , Parker. Nothing is worse than this.”

I was fighting back against tears so hard. “MJ, please-”

“My friends call me MJ,” she snapped. I looked up, feeling everything in me fall apart. I felt a couple tears fall.

“Mi-Michelle-”

“Don’t even try to pretend you give a shit. You’re a bad actor. I’m done. Go fuck yourself, Parker.”

She turned and stormed off, and I broke down. I sat in the grass and hugged myself as I cried. I hadn’t prepared for angry. I’d prepared for sadness, for tears, for seeing her heart break. Seeing her that angry and betrayed and _cold_ …that was a million times worse than seeing her cry. I knew she cared and that she loved me, but I knew there was no way I was getting my friend back.

I had lost her. Completely.

No more Saturday date nights or puppy playdates or skipping class to get food or going to La Marinara and dancing in the car. No more art dates on the roof by the docks, the one she’d shown me but nobody else. No more kissing her cheek when we were out with friends and making our friends groan but making MJ smile. No more making MJ smile.

In that moment, sitting in the grass, crying so hard I couldn’t breathe, I’d never felt more alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :(


	17. wakemeupwhenseptemberends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kids, sorry this chapter took so long. I've had a ROUGH couple weeks and this chapter was an emotional rollercoaster so I had a tough time getting it done.  
> Anyways, the first few days are from MJ and Peter's perspectives, so keep an eye out for line breaks to signify that there's a POV switch. :)  
> The songs for this chapter are 100-114. Enjoy!

**September 7 th **

I knocked on Miles’ door. I was shaking as I waited for him to open the door.

I could hear his voice as he opened the door. “MJ, you have a key, just come in next time-”

He stopped when he saw me.

“MJ, you- are you okay?”

I bit my lip. My nose was stinging, and tears were pooling in my eyes.

“Come in, chica.”

I came in, and I could smell fresh oatmeal cookies, and Mama Morales was in the kitchen, taking a tray of cookies out of the oven, and I just broke down. Something about the whole environment just pushed me over the edge and I started bawling.

“Oh, honey.”

Mama Morales put the tray down and took off her oven mitts, then came over and pulled me into a big bear hug. Miles joined in on the hug. My chest hurt I was crying so hard. Fuck, I hated crying, and I’d done so much of it lately, and it just wasn’t fun. I hated the puffy eyes and runny nose and empty chest. But at least my surrogate family made it easier.

I pulled myself together, and pulled away, wiping tears off my face. Mama Morales put her hands on my shoulders.

“Honey, I’ve seen you go through a whole world of shit. You’re so strong. You’ll be okay in the end.”

I forced myself to smile. “Thanks.”

Miles got me a plate stacked with cookies. “Come on, let’s watch a movie or something.”

I let him drag me into the living room. We watched _To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before_ , ate our weight in cookies, and he let me cry on and off without making me feel bad about it.

When the movie ended, I excused myself and started to head out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here tonight?” Miles asked.

I shook my head. “I kinda wanna be alone tonight. Thanks for everything, though, Miles.”

“Yeah, of course, MJ.” He gave me a hug. “Drive safe, okay?”

“I will. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

I left, and went down to the visitor lot and got in my car. The radio automatically turned on when I turned on the engine.

_-I don’t know where, confused about how as well, just know that these things will never change for us at all._

Great. This was exactly what I needed to hear right now. The end of _Chasing Cars._

_If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

I changed the radio station, in case that one was about to play more heartbreaking songs (not that anything could have hurt as much as _Chasing Cars_ did) and the first thing that came on was old-era Taylor Swift. I turned off the radio.

I drove home in silence. I forced myself to realize that Peter and I were done. Completely. It wasn’t just a fight. It wasn’t just a rough patch. He told me he didn’t want to be with me anymore. He wasn’t mine anymore.

I got home and ignored my mom, beelining into my room. Murphy padded in after me, slipping in before I closed the door. I turned off the lights and closed the blinds. Murphy seemed to realize I was upset, because his tail stopped wagging. He hopped up on the bed.

“Murphy, you’re not supposed to be up there.”

He whined, giving me big eyes.

I gave in, getting into the bed and laying down. He laid down, too, cuddling up to me.

Eventually, Harry came by with cinnamon buns for me, to show a little love and support before he headed over to Peter’s. Then, Connor and Liz came over, Liz bringing _The Princess Diaries_ to help cheer me up. When they came over, my mom took the cue and left the living room and disappeared into her bedroom without a word.

“Did you tell her about the breakup?” Connor asked, seeing my face fall at her coldness.

I shook my head. “Haven’t gotten the chance.”

That was a lie. I didn’t want to hear her talk about how self-pitying I am.

Liz made her way into the living room and popped the DVD into the Blu-Ray player. Connor had a grocery bag of snacks, which he dumped out on the coffee table.

“Sit down, girl,” Connor said.

I blinked. I was so numb, it was like I was watching things from the outside.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

I went and sat down. Connor and Liz sat down on either side of me. Connor plopped a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos in my lap. I half-smiled, opening the bag and reaching in. Liz dug under the pile of snacks for the remote, then started the movie.  

We started sitting like human beings, but by the end of the movie, we were piled up and covered in snacks. When the movie ended, Liz rolled off the couch, but her necklace had caught in Connor’s sweater, so she pulled him off the couch with her. Connor laughed when he landed, smacking Liz’s arm.

“Sorry!” Liz said, untangling her necklace. I washed her blush as her fingers brushed over his chest, trying to pull herself free.

It’d be cute, if Connor hadn’t been talking to me about his crush on Harry for a couple weeks now.

Liz stood up, and got her DVD out of the player, cheeks still rosy.  “We should, um, get out of your hair. You probably want to be alone for a bit.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks for coming over, guys. You’re the best.”

“Oh, I know,” Connor muttered, picking up his stuff. He leaned over so he could hug me without making me get off the couch, and planted a quick kiss on the top of my head as a friendly gesture. “Have a good night, okay? Call me if you need something.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Connor.”

After they left, I went into my room to change. I knew it was a terrible idea, but all I wanted to do was pull on one of Peter’s sweaters. They were soft and comforting and smelled like him, and even though I knew I should be angry and burn his clothes or something, it felt like the only person who could make me feel better was Peter. 

I pulled out a big black one, changed into that and clean underwear, then crawled into bed. 

I tugged the sweater up over my face and sobbed, ugly and loud and gross, until I fell asleep.  

I couldn’t sleep through the night, and different lyrics from  _Chasing Cars_  would flash through my sleep-deprived, delirious brain.  

 _I need your grace…_  

 _Let’s waste time…_  

 _Those three words…_  

 _To remind me…_  

 _Chasing cars…_  

 _Are said too much…_  

 _To find my own…_  

 _Around our heads…_  

 _They’re not enough._  

I replayed his voice telling me he loved me, a million different times. Him telling me when he was drunk, sober, angry, sad, happy, half-asleep. The way he said it, broken and sad, when he was breaking up with me earlier. I replayed the way he told me it was over.  

 _“I’m breaking up with you.”_  

I could still see his face like it was burned into my eyelids. The shadow from the building falling across his face, the extra sparkle his eyes had, the slight wobble to his lips, his shaking hands, the feet that were kicking the ground.  

I couldn’t not see it. My brain wanted me to remember that moment in perfect detail, just to hurt me. I wanted to take those memories, take all the memories of Peter, and shove them in a box and tape the box shut.  

I remembered his face the day at the gala, when Senator Dewsbury was overstepping a couple boundaries. I remembered his face as he reached for my hand, his face when he pulled me into another room, his face as I cried, his face as he held me, his face as we danced. 

His face right before we almost kissed.  

The most painful part was that I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t stay angry. I knew there was a chance he’d leave me once I told him what had happened to me, and I did it anyways.  

I had no one to blame but myself.  

 _Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_  

 **September 8** **th**  

I spent Saturday alone. My mom was out with Aunt Denise, and I was feeling Peter’s absence.  

Saturday was our date night. And now it was empty space that reminded me of him.  

I ordered a pizza, wore Peter’s sweatpants and a shirt, and cried all evening. I ended up packing up everything that Peter owned and putting it in a box, then put it on the top shelf of my closet. At some point after dark, I texted Harry, who then came over and got wildly drunk with me. 

“You know,” I slurred, my arms hugging a bottle of whiskey to my chest, “I have a box of hair dye in the bathroom.” 

“Why?” Harry had been drinking tequila like it was water, and now the tops of his cheeks and nose were bright red. It was quite funny. 

“I debated dying my hair red in sophomore year before I got those purple streaks.” 

“Awwww, I miss your purple hair. It was so…MJ.” He followed that with a large swig of tequila. I wondered, very briefly and very drunkenly, how he was still alive. 

“Do you wanna help me dye my hair red?” 

Harry frowned. “You know I’m not very well coordinated when I’m drunk.” 

“It doesn’t matter. I need a change. I don’t wanna see me when I look in the mirror.” 

 _Because I’m who Peter left. I don’t_ _wanna_ _be that anymore._

Harry hesitated, and opened his mouth to say something, then didn’t say anything. He nodded. “Sure, let’s do it.” 

We went into the bathroom and I dug around under the sink for the box of hair dye.

“Got it!”

I pulled the box of hair dye with a little too much gusto and stumbled. Harry grabbed my arm, laughing.

“You idiot,” he chuckled, pulling me back to a standing position.

I smacked his arm. “Rude.”

“So, how does this stuff work?”

“Uh, you wet the hair, put the dye in the hair, leave it for forty-five minutes, then wash the hair.”

“Okay, so, how do you wanna do this?”

I laughed. “Um, just use the showerhead, I guess.”

I knelt by the edge of the tub, and Harry used the showerhead to get all of my hair wet, then turned off the water. My hair was dripping water everywhere, so I grabbed a dark towel and clumsily draped it over my shoulders to protect my clothes and the floor.

“Do I just use my hands?” Harry asked, pulling the bottle of dye out of the box.

“No, I have a dye brush somewhere.” I dug around for a bit and then found the brush, sitting behind some tampons. “Here.”

Harry started pouring dye in my hair, then spreading it around with a brush. He managed to get it pretty even through my hair, despite the fact that he was absolutely shitfaced.

When he was done, I tied my hair up in a bun, we washed the dye off of our hands, and then we sat in my living room, eating popcorn and chatting for forty-five minutes until we could wash the dye out. I told him that I’d packed up Peter’s stuff so I could give it back to him on Monday. Harry told me about how shitty his dad was being. We had a good, long talk. It was nice, to talk about real stuff, and mean everything we said, and not hold back. It was definitely an upside to being drunk.

My phone timer went off, and we went back into the bathroom. At first, we tried doing the showerhead thing again, but water got all over my shirt and the floor. I took off my shirt and got in the shower.

“Dude,” Harry said, gesturing at my shirt on the ground.

“I’m still wearing a bra. Get in here and help me wash this shit out.”

Harry rolled his eyes, then got in the shower, running his hands through my hair to get the chunks of dye out. I laughed, then got water in my mouth.

“MJ, you are so lucky that I’m not a lightweight.”

“You’re just as wasted as I am,” I argued, following that statement with a slip. I grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt, and he grabbed me by the waist.

“Am I?’

“Okay, you’re not, but only by a smidge.”

“Just shut up and let’s wash your hair.”

Harry was nice enough to help me shampoo and condition my hair, and stop me from falling every time I slipped. When we got out of the shower, we were both soaking wet and cold, but laughing our heads off.

“Wait ‘til I tell Peter I showered with you,” Harry joked, grabbing a towel and rubbing it over his hair and face.

I laughed as I put my hair up in a towel twist. “Ooh, breaking the bro code, how edgy.”

“Shut up, Jones.” Harry whipped me with the towel.

“Ow!”

He whipped me again, laughing.

“Dude!”

He ended up chasing me through the apartment, whipping me over and over with the towel. By the end of it, we were lying on my bedroom floor, out of breath from running and laughing.

“Man, I’m gonna have to go home in wet clothes,” Harry groaned. His shirt was still wet and sticking to his body.

“I mean, you could throw on a pair of Peter’s sweatpants and I’ll run your clothes through the dryer.”

I watched as the gears turned in Harry’s head. He gave in.

“Alright.”

I got up and brought the box of clothes down, then handed Harry a pair of sweatpants.

“I’ll, um, get out of your way.”

“Please, as if you wouldn’t like the full view,” he teased, gesturing to his body.

I laughed. “Maybe in another life.”

I left the room, and waited for him to open it and give me his pile of soaked clothes.

“I’ll run it on the half-hour cycle.”

I threw them in the dryer, and Harry and I went back to eating popcorn and making stupid shower sex jokes. Harry also made a few jokes about how I must love the view of him shirtless, to which I joked about washing my eyes out with soap and water.

Eventually, the dryer finished with his clothes, so I gave him his warm, dry clothes, and he gave me back Peter’s sweatpants. I tucked those back in the box, not bothering to wash it first. Drunk MJ didn’t really think about that.

Harry left after that, giving me a big hug and complimenting my newly red hair on his way out.

˜˜˜

MJ and I watched the cartoon version of _Beauty and the Beast_ on our first Saturday date night. Well, it wasn’t a date, but it started the whole thing. So, when the live-action version came up in the suggested section of Netflix, I couldn’t scroll past it. All I could think of was MJ, sitting next to me, arm brushing against mine, eating pizza with me.

I would kill for a moment like that again.

I remembered the present she gave me for my birthday. The letter to read when I was feeling low.

I pulled that out of a drawer, where it sat next to her perfume and a couple Lego Star Wars characters.

She’s sprayed her perfume on the paper, so when I opened the letter, that was the first thing I noticed.

I remembered the endless nights I spent with my face buried in her hair. My heart hurt in my chest. I’d never have a night like that again.

“Dear Peter,

If you’re reading this, you’re probably having a rough night. Or you ignored my instructions and opened this the second I fell asleep. If that’s the case, kiss Future MJ on the head, because she really likes that.

If you really are having a rough night, though, I want you to know how much I love you. I love everything about you. I love your sparkly brown eyes and your soft lips and your curly hair. I love your sweet smile and the way you run your tongue over your bottom lip when you’re thinking about me (Harry tipped me off about that tell, by the way). I love when you bug me to hang out with you early in the mornings, even though I moan and groan and complain the whole time I’m getting up. I love talking about random things with you, like time travel, or where socks go when we wash them. I love all of our dates, because I love spending time with you. I am hopelessly in love with everything you do. The way you focus when you’re in Chemistry or Physics. The way you grip the wheel when you drive. The way you kiss me. Everything about you is absolutely perfect.

I don’t know why you’re upset, but I know that you can always talk to me. You can call me, even if it’s four in the morning, I promise I’ll answer.

At the very least, I hope I made you smile, just a little. It’s the least I can do for the boy who’s been making me smile for months.

I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker.

(Almost Emotionally Available) MJ.”

I had to put the letter down. I was starting to cry, and I didn’t want to get tears on it and warp it. This letter was precious.

I wiped at my eyes and put the letter back in the drawer, then turned on the movie, hugged a pillow to my chest, and cried. And cried and cried and cried.

* * *

 

**September 9 th **

I walked over to 7/11 to get some snacks, since Connor had offered to come over and binge some movies with me. I got a basket and filled it with ice cream and chips and chocolate, everything I could’ve possibly craved. As I was heading out of the aisle, bumped straight into someone.

“Oh, sorry-”

I looked up and saw Peter, his eyes puffy and his nose pink.

“Sorry,” I repeated, brushing past him.

“Mi- Michelle.”

I didn’t like the unfamiliarity, the distance “Michelle” put between us. But it helped. I didn’t want to run into his arms, or even look at him. “Michelle” reminded me that we weren’t friends. That was good. It was a good reminder of what we were to each other.

Just exes. Nothing more.

“What?”

“I, um, I have all the stuff you left at my place in my car. I-I was gonna give it to you tomorrow at school, so I put it in my car so I wouldn’t forget, but if you want I can give it to you now.”

I avoided eye contact. “Um, sure, just let me pay and stuff.”

“Okay.”

The air between us was hard to breathe. The tension was palpable.

I paid, and followed him out to his car. As we walked, I managed to stammer out a, “I’ll, um, bring you my stuff tomorrow. It’s just sitting in my closet at home.”

Peter looked at me, then asked, “Did you walk here?”

“Yeah.”

“I can drive you home, and we can…exchange _stuff_ , if you want.”

I hated looking at him. All I could remember was all the days over the summer we were laughing or goofing off or making out or just quietly enjoying each other’s company.

“Sure,” I said, against my better judgement.

I got in his car, pointing my knees away from Peter, putting my 7/11 bags in my lap, and staring out the window.

We pulled up to the building, and Peter got out of the car. I must’ve given him a weird look and he said, “Oh, did you- did you wanna just run up and back down, or-?”

“You can come up if you want.” I don’t know why I said that.

“O-okay. If you- I can- Do you want me to help you with your bags?”

“That’s alright.”

“Okay.”

The walk into the building, the ride up the elevator, and then the walk down the hall to my apartment were all silent. Peter carried the box of my stuff up, hugging it close to his body like he was reluctant to let it go.

I unlocked the door and started in, then realized Peter had stopped. I looked at him, confused.

“I’ll just, um, stay here.”

I frowned. “You’re welcome to come in if you want-”

Peter looked at me with big, pleading eyes, and spoke softly, “Michelle, I think it’s better if I just stay here.”

Right. _Michelle_. I forgot.

I sat the bags down on the counter, then got the box from Peter and brought it with me into the apartment.

Murphy was taking a nap on my window seat, which explained why he hadn’t immediately jumped on me at the door.

I reached up to the top shelf in my closet and pulled the box down. It had all of Peter’s clothes, his spare toiletries, and a couple other belongings he’d left here, like his Star Wars pencils (from when we studied together for finals), a phone charger, and a pair of movie stubs from a movie we saw together. _Incredibles 2_ at the drive-in at the beginning of summer.

Last minute, I took one stub back and put it in my keepsake drawer with other things that reminded me of Peter.

All at once, it was too much. This moment was a painful reminder that he was officially no longer my boyfriend. I sat down on the ground, the box in my lap, staring at his clothes, and started to cry. I gave myself a good minute just to cry, then wiped my face off, took a few deep breaths, stood up and headed back into the hall with the box.

“Sorry, that took me a moment. I, uh, forgot where I put your phone charger,” I lied, trying to save face, despite the fact that I sniffled at the end, making it very obvious that I had just been crying.

“Oh, no, that’s okay.”

I gave the box a mental goodbye, then handed it off to him.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he whispered, staring at the movie stub resting on top of his clothes.

“Yeah, see you.”

“Bye.” His voice cracked, and he turned away, but just before he did, I saw a tear streak down his face.

All I wanted to do was get in front of him and wipe the tear away and tell him not to cry, but I couldn’t. I had to remind myself that he didn’t want me. I had to remind myself that I wasn’t his MJ, I was Michelle. Just like sophomore year. Just like when I was the weird girl who always had her face in a book and sat with him and Ned at lunch so I didn’t feel so alone. So I couldn’t feel Miles’ absence so strongly.

I went back into my apartment, closed the door, put the snacks and ice cream away, and then went back into my room to unpack the box of my stuff.  

I pulled out a couple sweaters, a bra, my walrus socks, some extra contact lenses, the toiletries I left at his place, a few hair ties, a hair brush, my extra phone charger, my extra headphones, a pack of art pens, and at the very bottom, buried under every thing else…

The spare apartment key.

I broke down crying, this time not in the quiet, pretty way. I was bawling, hugging myself around my ribs, and struggling to breathe.

It was over.

No more good morning kisses, no more cuddling and dozing off, no more milkshake dates, no more wearing his sweaters, no more making him laugh, no more crying into his shoulder on nights when I was scared.

I pulled one of my sweaters on, only to discover it smelled like Peter.

Of course it did. He’d probably been wearing it for a while, and even if he hadn’t, it had been hanging in his closet among his other clothes.

The logical choice was to wash it, to wash any reminder of Peter away.

But this felt like all I had left. The last shred of our friendship and relationship.

I sat there, alone, with the hoodie pulled up over my face, sobbing until I had no tears left to cry.

* * *

Everything in the box smelled like her. Harry told me to wash the clothes, so I wasn’t walking around smelling like MJ everywhere I went. I agreed. It’d kill me.

So, I threw all my clothes in the wash. The second they were out of the dryer and smelled like fabric softener, I regretted it. I wanted her back. I wanted the ghost of her back. I wanted her scent, clinging to my sweaters, occupying the air I breathed.

I carried my laundry back into my room, ready to hang shirts and fold pants.

I remembered her perfume, sitting in a drawer. I pulled it out, frantically spraying it on a sweater.

It wasn’t quite MJ. It lacked the subtle smell of her apartment, which always smelled like spices, but it was very close.

That was all I needed.

Aunt May walked into the room as I was carefully putting the perfume back.

“Hey, Pete,” she said, her voice gentle. “You got your stuff back from MJ today?”

“Michelle,” I whispered. “She asked me to call her Michelle again.”

May frowned a little, stepping further into the room. “How did it go today?”

I felt my lower lip quiver. “She cried. She tried to pretend she didn’t, but she cried.”

“Oh, honey-”

“I can’t handle seeing her cry when I know it’s over me.” My voice broke on “know”, and tears started to fall down my face.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” May said, softly. She sat down on the bed, noticing the one sweater that was a little more disheveled than the others and picking up the sleeve.

“I-I can’t lose her, but I don’t know how I’m gonna survive this.”

May paused, looking down at her lap. “I hate that you have to choose between being happy and keeping MJ- Michelle, sorry – safe.”

“Me too,” I admitted. “I miss her, May. And I feel guilty because she thinks I broke up with her because she told me about her childhood, and I can’t tell her- I can’t tell her it was because of who I am. She trusted me, and told me who she was, and I couldn’t do the same.”

I sat down next to May, deflated. She put a hand on my back. “Can I tell you something?”

I nodded.

“It’s gonna hurt for a while. It- I’m still hurting. But it’s manageable. And you know you did the right thing.”

“Do you think I did?”

May hesitated. “I- I think you were very happy, and I think you made her very happy, and I think it’s a shame to give up a love that good and pure and healthy. Peter, you can’t live your life in fear. You have to live it, knowing that you can lose anyone, anytime, to anything.”

I didn’t say anything for a couple minutes.

“Do you want to be alone for a while?”

I nodded.

“Okay. Come bug me if you wanna talk. I’ll be reading in my room.”

She kissed my forehead and left my room, closing the door behind herself.

I flopped back on my bed, grabbing the sweater and pulling it toward me, laying it over my face.

_If I lay here…_

_If I just lay here…_

_Would you lie with me and just forget the world?_

* * *

**September 10 th**

I thought seeing him yesterday had been painful. That couldn’t have prepared me for seeing him at school. He was wearing one of the sweaters I gave back, sleeves pulled down over his hands, arms hugging his books to his chest. His eyes were puffy and pink and still watery, and he was chewing on his lip constantly.

I spent a lot of time with my earphones in that day, eyes down, just trying to block out anything and everything.

After third block, I had to go through the hallway with Peter’s locker in it to get to my next class. I rounded the corner, earphones in, and made the mistake of looking up. Miles was standing in front of Peter at Peter’s locker.

My breath hitched in my throat.

Miles was yelling at him. I pulled out my earphones to hear what was happening.

“-don’t even give her a reason! You just let her tell you things that we _both_ know she doesn’t talk about, and then break her heart right after like she means nothing to you! That is my goddamn sister, Parker-”

“Miles, I know, I’m sorry-”

I saw Miles clench his fist, and my first instinct was to get in between them, but I froze. I watched Miles wind up, and then sock Peter in the face. Peter stumbled, a hand reaching up to his face as he fell against the lockers beside him.

That snapped me out of it.

I ran over to stop him. Miles managed to get in another hit or two before I grabbed his arm with both hands.

“Miles. Miles!”

“Jones, this isn’t-”

I pivoted, getting in between them, my back to Peter, forcing Miles to look at me.

“You’re causing a scene-”

“I don’t care, MJ, he hurt you-”

“Miles, between the white kid and the black kid, who’s gonna get in more trouble over this? Just stand down and go to class, okay?”

Miles clenched his jaw, then looked past me at Peter. For a second, I feared he’d pushed me aside and keep hitting Peter, but then he dropped his eyes.

“Okay. Okay.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled his arm out of my grasp and walked past me, saying, “I’ll see you later, Jones,” as he did. He was clearly still pissed, but at least he wasn’t going to get in any shit over this.

The crowd started to disperse.

“Michelle-”

“Save it, Parker.”

“But I-”

I turned and glared at him. He shut up, tears welling in his eyes, a bruise forming along his cheekbone.

I walked past him, shoving past a group of fuckboys who were laughing, and making it to class before the bell rang.

All I could see all class was Peter’s face, staring up at Miles with wide eyes, the way his body fell against the lockers when Miles hit him, the quiver in his bottom lip when he looked at me.

Normally, I had no problem immersing myself in Biology, but today I couldn’t register the words I was reading. All I could see when I looked at the page was a bruise, blossoming along a cheekbone, pink skin.

I wanted to scratch my brain out and leave it on the table for the next class to dissect.

But I just sat there, pretending to be engaged, and made it through until the end of the day.

Connor came over that night, to keep an eye on me while I drowned my annoyance in vodka. I ended up getting him drunk, too. We played loud music and danced around my apartment all night.

Hungover Connor was very annoyed with me the next day, but it was nothing aspirin and coffee couldn’t fix.

**September 12 th**

“Dad, seriously, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do, MJ. Open the note first.”

I couldn’t help but smile, opening the note attached to the box and reading it out loud.

“I bought this for you before you and Peter broke up – side note: I still think you should give me his address so I can show up with a duffel bag full of guns and give him a good spook – but I think it’s more relevant now. The best revenge is smelling good when you walk past them. Give a good hair flip, too, to waft the smell over. Happy birthday, MJ. With love (and a little bit of mischief), Dad.” I laughed. “Aw, thanks, Dad.”

“Of course, honey. Open the box now.”

He was grinning like a little kid. I recognized that grin from old pictures of me on Christmas.

I tore open the wrapping paper (I assumed his wife wrapped it since it was wrapped well and my dad had the fine motor skills of a chicken nugget) and opened the box.

There was a pink Coco Chanel perfume bottle inside.

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t know what kind you’d like and this stuff was popular and-”

“I love it,” I interrupted, hugging him. “Thank you.”

He froze for a second, maybe not used to me being warm around him, but then hugged me back, arms wrapping around me in a bear hug. I let my head rest on his shoulder. It felt really good to have a parent that cared.

When I pulled away, he asked, “How are you doing, by the way? The breakup treating you okay?”

I tucked my hair behind my ears, just for something to do with my hands. “Yeah, I’m okay?”

“You sure, honey?”

He looked at me, all concerned and caring, and I took a deep, shaky breath.

“I mean, it sucks.”

“Why?”

Damn, he really cared. It was annoying. “Well, he’s at school, and he lives nearby, so I see him all the time.”

“Ah. That’s gotta suck balls.”

“Dad!”

He laughed. “You can’t tell me you don’t joke like that with your friends.”

“At least now I know where I got that from.”

**September 19 th **

I was sitting in class, staring at the board blankly, trying to hold it together. Some kid was playing music so loudly that I could hear it, even though they were wearing earphones.

_Forget what we’re told, before we get too old, show me a garden that’s bursting into life…_

It was stupid to still be struggling to cope with a breakup that happened almost two weeks ago. I should be past the ice-cream-and-cookie-dough stage by now.

But, goddammit, I wasn’t just gonna stop loving Peter. I didn’t know if I’d ever stop loving Peter. And that fucking hurt.

I scooted my chair back, picked up my bag, and left without a word. I saw my teacher glance up briefly, but he didn’t say anything.

I left class and found an empty storage closet, tears already streaking down my face. I went in and started to close the door, but someone stuck their foot in the way. I sighed, opening the door, ready to confront a custodian or something.

Flash was standing there, hands in his pockets, all wide-eyed.

“Are you okay?”

I blinked. “What?”

“I saw you leave class, and you looked upset. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Leave me alone.”

He slipped into the closet and sat down against a wall, patting the spot next to him.

“Flash, I am not in the mood.”

“I’m trying to be a friend, MJ.”

“Why?”

“Just talk to me. For a minute. And if you don’t feel better, I’ll leave.”

I gave in. Nothing I said would make him go away, and if I walked out he’d just follow me anyways. I sat down.

“What’s wrong?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know why you care.”

“Because you seem to need a shoulder to cry on, and I’ve got comfy shoulders.”

I sniffled. “Weird flex but okay.”

“Just talk to me.”

I groaned. Gotta bite the bullet sometime, right?

“It’s just Peter stuff, and all you’re gonna do is make fun of me.”

“MJ, I’m not going to tease you about something you’re this upset about.”

_It’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a-_

“I just- I heard our song in class, and it just brought back some memories-”

“Like what?”

Tears started to fall down my face. “Be-before we started dating, he took me to this gala thing, and we danced to _Chasing Cars_ , and we almost kissed that night. And then after that night, that was when I decided to-to just ask him out and tell him how I feel, and-”

I had to stop, and took a deep, shaky breath. Flash put an arm around me, his hand landing on the side of my backpack.

Something I did not think about at the time: my phone was in the pocket on the side of my backpack. Right under his hand.

“I’m sorry, MJ, that sounds hard. How long have you two been broken up now?”

I rubbed the heel of my hand over my cheek, wiping away some tears. “Uh, almost two weeks.”

“And how long were you together?”

“Two, maybe two and a half months.”

“Dang. That’s rough.”

I sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m just his summer fling. It’s fine.”

Flash snorted. “MJ, he’s sulking around the school just as much as you are. You had him whipped.”

“Yeah, well, he still dumped me, so…”

“Wait, what exactly-”

“He dumped me after the fire.”

“Oh. _Oh_. I remember him being in a rush to get around to the east side of the building that day.”

“Probably because I passed out in the building and had to be carried out by a paramedic.”

Flash coughed. “What?”

“Yeah, it was a rough day.” I stood up, smoothing out my shirt. “Thanks for the chat, dude, but I’m gonna go find Miles and tell him to convince me not to skip the rest of my classes today.”

“Anytime, Jones.”

I left the closet and made my way to my locker, put my stuff from class away, then made my way to Miles’ locker. I waited there for ten minutes for class to end, leaning against the wall, doodling in my pocket sketchbook.

“Hey, Jones.” I looked up as he nudged me aside so he could open his locker.

“Hey, dude. So, here’s the thing, I had to leave class to cry in a closet and-”

Miles’ phone buzzed, and he checked it. “Oh, when did you post?”

“What?”

“On Instagram, it says you just posted.”

“I didn’t.”

He frowned, swiping the notification across his screen to open Instagram. His eyes widened when the post loaded.

“What?” He didn’t say anything. _“What?”_

“Shit, Jones, check your phone.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, feeling the side pocket of my backpack for my phone.

Nothing.

I shrugged one strap off a shoulder and swung my backpack around so I could check the pocket again.

Nothing.

I closed my eyes. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

“MJ?”

“What did Flash do?”

Miles handed me his phone.

Flash had posted a bunch of my texts. Texts with Connor about Peter, texts with Miles about feeling shitty and having a panic attack, and, finally, texts between Peter and I.

Texts where he apologized to me, told me he loved me, told me he wanted me to be safe.

Texts where I told him I still loved him.

And, even better, in the caption of the photo, Flash talked about how I was abused as a kid. I don’t know how deep he managed to snoop through my phone, but he figured that out somehow.

I handed Miles back his phone.

“MJ, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you mind if I keep my bag in your locker while I go find Flash?”

“Jones-”

“Are you gonna stop me?”

He sighed, then held out his hand for my bag. I handed it to him, and he hung it on a hook in his locker, just in time for the lunch bell to ring.

“Thanks, bro. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, honey, if you think I don’t wanna watch whatever it is you’re about to do to Flash, you’ve got another thing coming.”

I snorted. Only Miles could make me laugh while my blood was boiling in my veins.

We headed down to the cafeteria, and the second I walked in, Flash yelled, “Michelle Jones, ladies and gentlemen!”

All eyes were on me.

Thankfully, I was too angry to care. I stormed over to his table in the middle of the cafeteria and shoved him.

“You’re a dick. You’re a goddamn dick.”

“Oh, come on, MJ, it’s just a little fun between friends.”

“Friends? Is that what we are?”

“You cried on my shoulder, didn’t you?”

One of his friends snickered behind him.

“Oh, please, laugh it up. Make a spectacle out of somebody who was stupid enough to believe in somebody’s good intentions. Share private texts and information about them and call it ‘fun between friends’. You’re a coward and you know it.”

Flash laughed. “Aw, boohoo, Michelle Jones gets denied a McDonald’s trip as a five-year-old and calls it abuse. Michelle Jones gets dumped because she’s unloveable hippie trash and cries about it for weeks. Michelle Jones leaves class to sit in a supply closet and blubber like a baby. Boo-fucking-hoo.”

I lost it. I slapped him, as hard as I could. It was crisp. My hand even stung a little, and you could hear the sound echoing off the walls in the cafeteria. When he looked back at me, his cheek was red, and his eye was watering. I heard Miles snicker at the back of the room.

I stood up on a table, kicking his tray off of it onto the floor, spilling chocolate milk and curly fries. He frowned, holding his cheek. It was starting to swell. I’d bitch-slapped the fucker so hard, it was swelling.

“Listen up, guys, because I’m only gonna say it once. Everything on that post was true. All of it. None of those messages were faked, nothing he said about my childhood was a lie. None of it was a secret, either. Maybe not information I flaunted, but not a direct secret. So, if y’all get off to somebody’s messages about their breakup, or about feeling like garbage at one in the morning, have fun. The post is staying up, only because clicking on my profile only benefits my account anyways. And if you wanna talk shit, or speculate, or whatever the fuck, enjoy yourself. Because you know what? None of the shit I’m going through is unique to me. Flash got dumped by his sophomore homecoming date after Spider-Man trashed his daddy’s car. Flash is also often up at one in the morning the night before decathlon events, stressing about how it’s gonna go, which I always find funny because he’s so goddamn useless that he’s basically an academic benchwarmer. Seriously, while we’re on the topic, I don’t think the kid has answered a single question during a competition. Maybe performance anxiety is the real reason he can’t keep dates. Or, maybe, he’s still got a boner for our old decathlon captain, Liz Allan. But that’s a story for Betty’s morning news tomorrow.”

I shot a look at Betty, and she nodded. She knew what I was talking about.

“Anyways, enjoy your curly fries, kids.”

I got down from the table.

“You’re a bitch. That’s the real reason Penis Parker dumped you. You’re a nasty, stone-cold bitch.”

“Aw, chin up, princess,” I said mockingly, patting his swollen cheek as I walked away. I headed back over to Miles, and we left the cafeteria together.

“That was amazing. You commanded attention better than most teachers at this school.” He put an arm over my shoulders, laughing.

I laughed. “Yeah, well, if only I could apply that to my History presentation tomorrow.”

“You’d get a hundred and ten percent.”

Prior to what I wanted him to say, Miles didn’t tell me to stay at school, so I went home. At some point that afternoon, Peter texted me to check up on me, which was a sweet gesture, but didn’t change the fact that I really just didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t really wanna talk to anybody.

After I spent a couple hours laying in bed pitying myself, I decided I hated the red hair. Or maybe I didn’t hate it, but I felt like I was pretending to be something I wasn’t, so I called Connor. He came over with a box of dye-stripper, helped me strip the dye out of my hair, and then we did a dramatic wet hair photoshoot to seal the deal.

**September 22 nd **

“Eli, let me just spend my Saturday night home alone, eating ice cream and pitying myself. It’s tradition.”

“Nope. I’m taking you to this party.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to wear, or who to talk to.”

“I’ll introduce you to a cute guy at the beginning and you can spend the whole party macking on him. Just trust me, it’ll get your mind off of things.”

I groaned. Why do I ever pick up Eli’s calls? He’s so persuasive. Last time he got me to the gym. “Fine. But you owe me ice cream.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“That seems early. And I still don’t know what to wear.”

“I don’t know, wear something you feel good in.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. See you at eight.”

At eight, he showed up in his fancy Audi. I rolled my eyes as I got in.

“I’m always gonna be mad that you got a childhood with Dad. I have a second-hand Mitsubishi with blown-out speakers and bad shocks.”

Eli laughed. “I’m sure if you asked Dad he’d buy you a new car.”

“Yeah, but then I’d feel guilty.”

We drove to the party, but it was eight at night on a Saturday in what Eli called the “party sector” of New York, so it took us over an hour to get there. I understood why he picked me up at eight. When we got there, the party was in full swing.

Some guy who looked a little older than Eli walked over. He was cute. Tall, dark hair, bright smile. “Hey, Eli, what’s up? Who’d you bring?”

“This is MJ, my big sis.”

“Why, hello.” He leaned forward slightly and extended a hand. “I’m Jared.”

I shook his hand. “You hosting?”

“Nope, this is my brother’s party. I’m the supervision, so to speak.”

“Senior?”

“Yep.”

Eli seemed to take the hint that we were vibing. “I’m gonna go find Brian, you kids have fun. Use protection!”

I laughed it off. “Sorry about my brother.”

“Mine would’ve done the same. Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

I followed him through the party to the kitchen, where there was a mock bar set up. He grabbed me a beer can, then got one for himself and cracked it open and leaned against the counter.

“So, what’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this weird…I don’t want to say aura, because that makes me sounds like some scammer who tells you you’ve got an orange aura and a broken life line on your palm and then charges you thirty bucks for the whole affair, but aura.”

I laughed. “Explain.”

“You just seem like a confident gal, but also like kind of out of your element.”

“The only person I know here is Eli. I am very out of my element.” I cracked open the beer and took a sip. It tasted like piss, but that’s just how beer tastes.

“Okay, so the confidence thing. I mean, it’s definitely earned confidence, because you’re gorgeous,” he said, giving me a once-over, “but you also seem like you’d be one of those girls who hides behind a book.”

I laughed, again. “You’re good at this. I totally used to be that girl.”

“What changed?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Good friends, I guess.”

He nodded. “Makes all the difference, huh?”

“Yeah. I had a weird couple years where my best friend moved to Brooklyn so I didn’t get to see him almost ever, which meant I could either branch out or hide behind books. So, I hid behind books for a while, but then I kinda branched out and made a bunch of really good friends, and then my best friend moved back and he lives really close now so everything’s all good.”

“This best friend…you ever wanted more than that?”

I snorted, leaning against the counter next to Jared as I laughed. “No. He’s like a brother. I’m a lot closer to him and his mom than my actual family. I’m pretty happy with that.”

“Really? No special guy or gal in your life?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“A girl as pretty and as smart looking as you? I find it hard to believe that guys aren’t falling at your feet.”

Wow, Jared knew how to lay the flattery on thick.

“There’s just my ex, and that’s a pretty bad situation right now, so as of this moment, you’re the only guy.”

Jared smiled this cute smirk. “I like those odds.”

“Odds of what?”

He leaned in and kissed me.

He kissed absolutely nothing like Peter.

“Jesus, Jared, she’s been here two minutes,” Eli groaned.

“You’re just mad your girl isn’t talking to you tonight,” Jared shot back. I sipped my beer, watching this go down.

“She’s not my girl.”

I recognized the look on Eli’s face. I used to see it on Peter’s face before we started dating.

“Who’s not your girl?”

Jared pointed at a girl playing beer pong over in the dining area. She was pretty. Long, pink hair, red lipstick, glasses. She threw a ping pong ball and missed, then dropped her head back and groaned. Eli watched this whole thing with heart eyes.

“Go talk to her,” I said.

“Nah, she’s mad at me.”

“What did you do?”

I realized that while I was distracted, Jared had slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I wasn’t even mad about it.

“It’s complicated.”

Jared scoffed. “No, it isn’t, Eli, you blew her off to hang out with your ex.”

“Cheryl and I are friends and she knows that.”

“If she knows, why is she mad at you?”

Eli shrugged. “Jealousy?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re both so clueless. She probably doesn’t care about you being friends with your ex as much as she does about you blowing her off. You made it seem like you care more about Cheryl than her.”

“So, how do I fix that?”

“Go out of your way to do something nice for her. Like hide a few of her favourite chocolate bars in her backpack with a little note or something when she isn’t looking. Something small but sweet. She’ll notice.”

Eli seemed shocked. Jared just smiled.

“Alright, Eli, you go talk to your girl, and I’ll take MJ outside.”

I looked at him, frowning. “What’s outside?”

Eli muttered, “As long as you’re not taking her upstairs.”

Ugh. Boys.

I shrugged. “Let him if he wants to.”

Jared coughed, choking on his beer. Eli’s eyes went wide.

“I’m gonna go talk to Penny. Bye.”

He walked off. I laughed. “It’s so easy to shock him like that. I love it.”

Jared led me outside, to a group of his friends, took the last empty seat, and then patted his lap.

Well, okay, then.

I sat down in his lap, putting one arm around his neck. We sat there and talked to his friends, and I slowly managed to get through four or five beers. Maybe more. Some of that was in beer pong, and it’s easy to lose track there. Eventually, we did a couple shots, and then I was so drunk that I was dizzy and giggly and happy. Jared and I spent a significant amount of time against a wall with our tongues in each other’s mouths.

It was nice, to be honest. To have a Saturday night where I could just be reckless and stupid and make out with someone who wasn’t Peter. To have a night where I was drunk without being sad. I had craved this bubbly feeling all month.

Eventually, Jared started to lead me upstairs.

“Wait,” I mumbled, “what are you doing?”

“If we want to take this any further, I think we need a little privacy.”

“What?”

“MJ, I’m taking you up to my bedroom.”

Now, Jared was objectively hot, and he was a good kisser, and it had been fun, but I didn’t want to have sex with him. I was here to be reckless, but not that reckless.

I shook my head. “Let’s stay down here.”

He grabbed me by the hips and backed me up against a wall, his face so close I could feel his breath when he spoke. “What’s the matter, baby? I don’t bite.”

I frowned. “You’re a bit of a jackass.”

“What, for wanting to take a pretty girl up to my room?”

“For assuming said pretty girl wants you in her pants.”

“Come on, you were all over me a second ago.”

“Yeah. Down here. I don’t want to have sex with you-”

He cut me off, kissing me, and I pushed him off.

“Asshole.”

“You’re such a fucking tease, you know that? God, no wonder your ex hates you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. And you wonder why pretty girls don’t want to fuck you. You’re all cheekbones and jawline and abs and flattery and there’s not an ounce of respect in you.”

“Oh, fuck you, I’ve respected you plenty.”

“I am way drunker than you are right now and you’re trying take advantage of that to guilt me into sex. Go fuck yourself.”

“Bitch.”

He turned and walked away.

I didn’t realize until I started to walk without somebody’s arm around me exactly how drunk I was. I wandered into the living room to see Eli on the couch, kissing the girl with pink hair. Penny or whatever.

“Eli.” Nothing. “Eli.” Nothing. “Elijah Jensen.”

He stopped kissing the girl. “What?”

“Let’s go. I’m done here.”

He checked him phone. “It’s half past one.”

“Yeah. Your friend Jared’s a jackass. And your curfew is in half an hour.”

Eli sighed. “Okay. You’re right. Sorry, Pen, I gotta go.”

She whispered something to him, and his eyes widened just a little.

“I-I, uh, I can’t. Sorry.”

He got up, pulling her arms off of himself, and grabbed my arm.

“You look like you’re gonna fall over at any second.”

“I probably am.”

“Geez, MJ, how much did you drink?”

I shrugged. “A lot. I kinda have to pee. I mostly just want to leave.”

“Yeah, you told me that part.”

“I didn’t tell you that I have to pee.”

“God, MJ, you’re an idiot. Come on, I gotta say goodbye to Josh before we leave.”

“Who’s Josh?”

“Jared’s little brother.”

“Is he as cute as Jared?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Eli led me through the party, until we found Josh. He was somehow cuter than Jared. Damn, made out with the wrong brother.

“Josh, man, we’re gonna head out.”

“Aight, man, sounds- Oh, hey, I don’t think we’ve met.”

I smiled. “I’m MJ.”

“She’s very drunk, and we have to go.”

“Wait, lemme get your number before you go.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “Dude, I have to go an hour out of my way to get her home and curfew is in twenty minutes. I’ll text it to you.”

Josh shrugged. “Fine by me. Drive safe.”

“See you.”

Eli pulled me outside, helped me into his fancy, overpriced car, and started the drive home.

“Jared’s an asshole.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried to bring me upstairs.”

“I thought you wanted that?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want it by the time he was pulling me up there.”

“And you told him that?”

“Yep. And he called me a bitch. Which isn’t even as insulting as guys think it is, really. Most girls call themselves bitches because it’s kinda just funny at this point.”

Eli shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, MJ.”

I leaned my head against the window. “You don’t have to tell me anything. You’re my little brother. I’m supposed to be looking out for you, and instead you’re driving my drunk ass home.”

“Just because I’m your younger brother doesn’t mean I can’t do something for you once in a while.”

I closed my eyes. “I guess.”

A few minutes later, we pulled up outside my building.

“Do you need me to walk you up?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Okay, be careful.”

He waited for me to get into the building before he drove off. I slowly made my way to the elevator, then leaned against the wall as it went up to my floor, then slowly made my way down the hall to my apartment.

To my surprise, the door was unlocked, which meant my mom had gotten home.

That was…weird. She told me she’d be out for the night.

When I opened the door, I heard two voices, one low and familiar, the other my mom’s.

“Hey,” I said, hoping I came off much more sober than I was.

“Oh, hey, honey. You remember Brandon, right? We ran into each other at the grocery store-”

I had stopped listening. There he was, ten years older, but with the same cold look in his eyes. I remembered all at once everything he’d done to me when I was a kid. The yelling, strangling the cat, beating me within an inch of my life. My breath hitched in my throat.

“-and so I said, why not come over for a couple drinks, and-”

I stopped her. “Sorry, I’m just really tired. Good to see you, Brandon.”

“Good to see you, too, Michelle.”

I wanted to puke. I could remember the pressure of his hands groping me and feelings me up when I was little. I could almost feel it now, just looking at him grin like that at me. He was grinning like we were remembering the same thing.

I ran into the bathroom, washed my face and brushed my teeth and all that, then ran into my bedroom, making sure to lock the door before I changed.

Murphy was lying asleep in his bed. I realized that if Brandon was back in our lives, Murphy wasn’t safe. If Brandon could strangle a stray cat I fed when I was seven, he would absolutely strangle my dog if I wasn’t compliant.

The thought sent a chill up my spine.

I didn’t sleep much that night. I sat against my headboard, watching the door, waiting for the lights to go out, but I fell asleep before they did.

**September 28 th **

I went swimming with Harry, Ellie, and Connor in the evening, just to take advantage of the last days of warm enough weather for swimming. Harry and Connor were making googly eyes at each other the whole time we were all in the water, so Ellie and I got a chance to chat and bond and generally just have fun.

“It’s getting late, do you think we should start to head out?” Ellie asked.

“It’s pretty dark out. Do you want a ride home, Ellie?” Harry asked. “Just so you don’t have to walk home alone at night.”

“That would be wonderful, thanks.”

I turned to Connor, splashing him to get his attention. “Movies at my place?”

“Yeah, I’m down.”

We all got out of the water, and quickly realized how cold it was. Ellie and I booted it into the ladies’ room to shower in warm water and get changed.

I was still chilly the whole way home, and even when Connor and I were curled up on my couch watching _The Lion King_. I had my arms wrapped around myself and a blanket pulled over me, but I was still shivering.

“Are you still cold?”

“Dude, I am skin and bone. There was no fat on me to protect me from how cold it was after we got out of the pool.”

“Here,” Connor said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “How’s that.”

“Much warmer, thank you.”

It took a few minutes, but once I was warmed up and comfy, I was very sleepy from the swimming and all. I let my head rest on Connor’s shoulder, and started to doze off. I think Connor was sleepy too, because I noticed his muscles relaxing before I fell asleep.

My mom posted a photo of the two of us cuddled up on the couch, comparing it to the time Peter and I fell asleep watching John Mulaney. That got Peter’s attention, and I got a mouthful from him on it the next day. First, he’d been jealous over the picture I posted with Jared the night of the party, and now he was upset that I was cuddling a friend so I could warm up, like he had any right to dictate my love life (or how I act with my friends, for that matter) after _he’d_ broken up with _me_.

Asshole.

**October 3 rd **

As I was getting ready for school, my phone started to buzz off the counter. I picked up.

“Eli, what do you want?”

“MJ, I’m downstairs.”

“What?”

“Get down here. Now.”

“Listen, bro, I love you, but I have to get ready for school-”

“Dad’s dying.”

I paused. “What?”

“I’ll tell you in the car. Just get down here.”

I put my lipstick down, threw on a sweater, and ran downstairs, hopping in the car.

“Explain.”


	18. grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya kids. This chapter is just pure sad boi hours so get ready for that. As per usual, @itslizzyallan made my life a million times easier by doing the playlist for me. The songs for this chapter are 115-123.  
> Just a trigger warning - near the end of the chapter, MJ gets drugged and there's the lead up to an assault, so if that's something that will trigger a panic attack or anything, please just skip it when it gets to that part. It is, however, very important to the plot, so if you can, do read. If you can't, feel free to message me and I'll explain whatever you need to know. Safety first kids! (Chapter 19 covers the actual assault, so this chapter is fairly clean and easy to get through, but I separated off the part that's more graphic and triggering for the specific purpose of it being easier to skip if it's something that could trigger you.)  
> Enjoy!

**October 3 rd **

“Explain.”

Eli shifted the car into drive and sped off, booting it towards the hospital. “You’re gonna be mad, so there’s a pillow in the back for you to punch if-”

“Just spit it out. I can handle it.”

He took a deep breath. “Dad was diagnosed with cancer about six months ago. When he reached out to you again, he made us all promise we wouldn’t tell you about his diagnosis. He received a terminal diagnosis around mid-August, and made Charlie and I swear on his grave that we wouldn’t tell you.”

“Did he say why?”

Eli looked at me. I’d never seen him so devastated. “He didn’t want you to spend time with him out of pity or obligation. He wanted a genuine relationship with you. You know, he’d never admit it, but you’re the favourite child.”

I couldn’t breathe. It didn’t feel real.

“Eli, tell me today isn’t his last day.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Eli, please.”

“I-I don’t know, MJ. They gave him six weeks, and it was six weeks yesterday.”

“Shit.”

“Are you okay?”

“Why the fuck would I be okay right now?” It didn’t come out angry. It just came out soft and broken.

“Fair enough.”

We were silent the rest of the way to the hospital. When we got there, he led me up to the room Dad was in.

He looked awful. Pale and sunken and grey.

“He just…collapsed earlier, and his vitals have been getting worse by the minute,” Charlie told me as we walked in. I sat down in a chair next to the bed.

“Has he woken up?” I asked. “Do you think he will wake up?”

My step-mom shook her head.

“Do you, um, maybe want a moment alone with him? We’ve been with him for a couple hours,” Eli said.

I nodded. “I’d appreciate it.”

The three left the room to give me and Dad a moment alone.

This was it. I had to say goodbye now, or maybe I’d never get the chance to again. I just had to hope he could hear it.

“I don’t, uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, but this is worth a shot. I’m sorry I pushed you away for so long, and that I didn’t let you into my life for so long. I’m sorry that I was so resentful because my mom conditioned me to hate you. I’m sorry for all of it. And I’m really glad that we’ve been getting along and that I have a relationship with you now, because-because you’re a really great dad, and I love you a lot. God, I hope you can hear me.” I slipped my hand into his, squeezing. “Please pull through. I want you at my graduation this year, and I want you there to send me off to college, and I want you there if I ever walk down the aisle. Please, please don’t let go.”

I bit my lip to stop from crying. I stayed there, silent, for a couple more minutes, before I turned to look at the window in the door and wave Charlie in. She opened the door, then she, Eli, and their mom came back in. I answered a few texts from friends who were wondering why I wasn’t in class, but I mostly just sat there quietly, trying to process that I was watching my father die right before my eyes.

Around 11, I texted Miles about what was going on, and he decided to come to the hospital so I didn’t feel so alone.

Dad’s vitals were quickly declining, and we realized that his pulse and breathing were both steadily getting weaker and weaker. I squeezed his hand, hoping it’d remind him that I wanted him to stay. I needed him to hold on, to wake up, to smile at me just one more time.

_beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep_

At 11:27, he flatlined.

I stared at the line on the EKG machine. _It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real._

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Miles. He didn’t say anything at first, but the look he gave me had “I’m sorry” written all over it. He squeezed my shoulder, and I just started bawling. He knelt next to my chair and hugged me.

“Who are you?” my step-mom asked.

“Her brother.”

“Uh, I’m her brother,” Eli said.

Miles didn’t say anything.

“MJ, can you ask him to leave?”

I couldn’t. I needed Miles. If I needed anything in the world, I needed Miles.

“It’s okay, I can go,” Miles said, starting to get up, but my arms were wrapped around him and I wouldn’t let go. I was still sobbing too hard to breathe or speak. “MJ, you have to let go or I’m bringing you with me.”

I looked behind me, to see a nurse pulling a sheet up over my dad’s face.

I looked back at Miles, silently begging between sobs to take me out of there.

He lifted me up bridal style, grabbing my bag from Eli and carrying me out of there. He let me cry as hard as I could into his shoulder as he carried me all the way to the hospital parking lot, then helped me into his car and drove me back to his place.

Mama Morales was at work, so it was just the two of us. I ended up in the fetal position on his couch, with my head in his lap, just crying, every sob wracking my whole body. Miles just rubbed my back and tried to comfort me as much as he could.

I don’t know if I cried so hard that I made myself sick, or if it was grief, or something else, but suddenly I was incredibly nauseous. I got up off the couch and made a beeline for the bathroom, and just starting puking up my guts. Miles came in after me, and sat next to me, holding back my hair and rubbing my back. After a few moments, he stopped rubbing my back and squeezed my hand instead. When I stopped puking, I just stared at his hand, thinking of my dad’s.

I was grateful that I didn’t get the chance to feel it go cold.

That thought sent another wave of nausea through me, and I puked again. And again and again and again until there was nothing left and I was just dry heaving.

When it calmed down, Miles helped me up and made me brush my teeth, then got me a change of clothes and made me some hot chocolate. He set me up in the guest bedroom.

“You should try to get some sleep.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“I know, but you’ve had a morning from hell. Just get some sleep, and I’ll make some food for when you wake up.”

I sniffled. “You’re the best. Thanks for everything.”

He came over and hugged me as tight as he could, then kissed the top of my head.

“Get some rest, chica. If you can’t just lie there and try to relax a bit.”

“Okay.”

He closed the blinds, darkening the room, then left, closing the door softly behind him. I finished the hot cocoa and laid down. He was right, I needed the rest.

I passed out, and didn’t wake up until Mama Morales got home. I heard the front door open and close, then slowly sat up. My stomach was still turning, I had the headache from hell, and god, it hurt. My dad was gone, right after we’d really started to become close. Right after I’d gotten used to daily “good morning, have a good day at school!” texts and tight hugs and feeling loved. God, it had felt weird but it had felt so good. My chest felt empty and cold and tight, like there was a giant, invisible hand squeezing me around the ribs.

I got out of bed and opened the door, bringing the mug into the kitchen to put in the sink.

“Hey, baby, how are you doing?” Mama Morales asked. I turned around.

“I-I, uh, I don’t know. It hurts. A lot.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, MJ. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

She pulled me into a big hug, and I realized something. I had felt loved and cared for in this household my whole life, and distanced myself from that feeling by telling myself that they weren’t my real family. But if Miles and I’s eighth grade _Supernatural_ phase had taught me anything, it’s that family don’t end in blood.

I gave in, crying into her shoulder.

I stayed there that night, watching movies on the couch like a family, eating the soup Miles made (which was actually almost at Mama Morales’ level) and trying to cope.

**October 6 th **

The next few days were hell. I stayed at home, mostly avoiding human contact. My brother started sending me pictures that my dad had of me. Baby pictures on his desk at work, a couple school photos he’d managed to get a hold of over the years. I got a bouquet of dahlias that my dad had scheduled to be sent to me, with a note on it apologizing for keeping the cancer a secret.

I quickly realized that my siblings didn’t understand what I was going through. They’d known for months. I found out three hours before he died.

Out of desperation for someone who understood, I texted Tony and told him what had happened. He cleared his schedule and came over to keep me company. We mostly just sat in the living room of my apartment and talked. I told him that I’d been feeling sick and gross. I’d throw up a bunch, run a fever, and I was generally just exhausted. At some point, I asked for the date, so I could email the school and tell them why I wasn’t coming in, and when he said the sixth, I froze.

I was supposed to get my period four days ago, and hadn’t noticed that I was late.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, it’s a- it’s a girl thing.”

Tony frowned. “Like, period stuff?”

“Yeah, I’m late.”

“And you said you’ve been really nauseous and stuff recently, right?”

I nodded slowly. “I’ve been nauseous, I can’t eat, I’ve been dizzy, and I’ve been running and slight fever.”

“MJ, is it possible that you’re…pregnant?”

I took a breath. “I-I’m on birth control, and Peter and I have been broken up for a month, and we were pretty safe- god, I hope I’m not. I can’t- Tony, I can’t deal with that right now.”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “You might not have a choice, kid.”

I groaned, letting my head fall back. “I’m gonna have to get a test and-and maybe tell Peter. I can’t face Peter right now. He’s been- it’s just been really bad between us for a while now and I don’t think I could deal with this.”

“Take a breath, MJ. It could be nothing. You should take a test just in case, but it’s probably nothing.”

I took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Okay.”

“So, what happened with you and Peter?”

I sighed. “He got mad at me because I went to a party and made out with some dude, who turned out to be a total jackass anyways, and then he got mad because my mom posted a picture on my account of my friend and I cuddling on the couch together, but I can’t imagine why he thinks he has the right to be so salty when he’s the one who broke up with me.”

Tony pressed his lips together. “He’s probably upset because he still loves you.”

“Why wouldn’t he want me to move on, then?”

“If you saw him cuddling with one of his female friends, how would you feel?”

“That’s different. I didn’t dump him.”

“Who broke up with who doesn’t matter. I know why he did what he did, and no, I don’t agree with it, because you made him really happy, but he didn’t do it for lack of loving you. He did it because he loves you.”

I closed my eyes, exhaling. “Why is this whole thing so complicated?”

“I wish I could tell ya, kid.”

He stayed with me for a while longer, then eventually had to leave. I felt better about some of the grief, but now there was a whole other thing to panic about. What if I was pregnant? What then?

In a panic, I texted Liz, and told her about everything. She told me she’d be over in a few minutes to take me to a drug store so I could buy a test. I found a sweater and my purse and waited in the lobby for her car to pull up. When she showed up, I hopped in the car, and she drove us to a CVS.

“Apart from this whole ordeal, how are you holding up?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“MJ,” she said softly, scolding me a little, “just talk to me.”

My eyes started to well with tears. “I can’t, Liz.” I wiped my eyes before the tears fell.

“Why not?”

I took a shaky breath. “I started to rely a lot on my dad. I’ve been telling him everything since Peter and I broke up. And now he’s just gone, and it’s so abrupt that I haven’t had time to adapt, and I don’t know what to do. All I want to do is talk to him but I can’t- he’s not there.”

Liz nodded. “I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t help, but I am.”

I shrugged. “It’s nice knowing you’re there for me. I just always feel like nobody actually cares about me and would rather I just shut up and stop complaining.”

“MJ…”

“No, don’t do that. This situation sucks enough as is, okay? I hate feeling like some damsel-in-distress that you’re obligated to treat like glass.”

“I’m not obligated to do anything. I’m here because you’re my friend and I care about you.”

We pulled into the CVS parking lot and Liz parked the car, then turned to me.

“MJ, you don’t have to talk. I can imagine that the whole thing hurts a lot and you’d rather not deal with it. But you’re smart enough to know that talking helps, so whenever you need to, I’m here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. Let’s go in.”

We went into the CVS, spent way too long staring at pregnancy tests, not knowing which one to buy. After a few minutes of frustration, I closed my eyes and grabbed a random box off the shelf, then went to the counter. Before I could open my purse and hand the cashier my cash, Liz butted me aside and paid for me, tapping her card and handing me the box.

“Let’s go.”

When we got in the car, I held the box, turning it over in my hands and trying not to think about how much the results would impact me.

“Thanks,” I whispered. “For taking me, for paying for it, for everything.”

“Of course.”

She dropped me off in front of my building.

“I’ll text you later,” I told her, still staring at the instructions on the side of the box.

She put a hand on my arm. “Call me if you need to. I’ll have my phone on.”

I mustered up a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

I got out of the car and went up to my apartment. I sat on the bathroom counter and read the instructions over and over, overthinking the whole time.

I just had to take it. There was no point in rereading the instructions over and over, hoping that would somehow make this easier. It was difficult. I just had to accept that.

I took the test and then left it on the counter, anxiously waiting the two minutes. I counted out the seconds in my head, forcing myself not to watch the test. I stared at the wall, counting to 120 seconds, and then looked at the test.

Two lines. Positive.

Shit.

_Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit._

Oh god. I was pregnant. The second line was faint, but it was there. I was pregnant.

Liz texted me a few minutes later to ask if I’d taken the test, and I told her it was positive. She comforted me a bit but it was a relatively short conversation.

I couldn’t do this. That was all I could think. This was too much all at once, and holy shit, I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t deal with Peter and I couldn’t cope with going and getting an abortion and I couldn’t even think about telling Miles or Mama Morales or anybody.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had put the test on my dresser and I was shoving my key in my pocket and walking out the front door.

* * *

“-you have an assignment that you should be working on-”

“Karen, is that Michelle?” I interrupted.

It looked like her. Brown curly hair. A familiar blue sweater. Similar height and frame.

“I don’t know, Peter. Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

“Can you call Aunt May for me?”

“Calling Aunt May.”

It rang a couple times. As it did, I jumped rooftops to keep up with MJ. What was she doing walking around, alone, at eight in the evening? That wasn’t safe.

“Peter, honey, is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah, listen, I think Michelle’s walking around alone, so I’m just gonna keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe, so I won’t be home for a while.”

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, and I can’t ask her because I’m in the suit.”

“Okay. Call me in an hour or so and keep me updated. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

There was a soft beep as the call ended. I jumped rooftops again.

She was walking with her shoulders forward, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. Something was wrong.

It made sense. Her dad died three days ago, and a lot of us hadn’t heard much from her other than a single text she sent to the decathlon group chat, telling us she’d be gone for a few days and Miles was our substitute captain.

I ran up ahead and then turned and zoomed in on her. She looked like she had completely spaced out. Her eyes were glazed over, and her lips were slightly parted. She almost looked like a zombie. It was a little nerve-wracking.

I followed her as she wandered aimlessly around the neighbourhood. I kept an eye on the alleyways as she walked past them, webbing up the occasional sketchy loiterer. She didn’t notice, or at least didn’t acknowledge it.

An hour passed, so I called Aunt May.

“Hey, honey,” she said, the smoke alarm going off behind her.

“Were you cooking?” I asked.

“Yeah. I should stop trying, or maybe take a class.”

I chuckled.

“How’s Michelle? Is she back home yet?”

“No. I’m just gonna keep following her. I can get Karen to send you hourly updates.”

“Karen? Oh, right, the suit. Yeah, Peter, that sounds good. Stay safe.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The call ended again. I told Karen to text Aunt May hourly updates on my wellbeing, and kept following Michelle.

A few more hours passed, and I was slowly getting more and more exhausted. I just kept hopping and swinging from rooftop to rooftop, and she kept walking at the same steady pace, with the same blank look on her face. I wondered if she were even conscious.

Around four o’clock, I decided I just needed to take her home, so I hopped down from the building I was on and walked up to her, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned to look at me, her eyes no longer glazed over.

“Hey, ma’am, I’ve been following you and making sure you’re safe for several hours, but it’s now four in the morning. Can I take you home?”

She frowned. “It’s- I’ve been out for, like, twenty minutes. Is it really four?”

I nodded. She pulled out her phone to check, then ran a hand over her face as she put her phone back in her pocket.

“I think I just need to sit down for a moment.”

She sat down on the ground with her back against a building, letting her head fall back and staring at the sky. After a moment, she looked at me, then patted the ground next to her. I sat down.

“Don’t you think it’s sad that we never see the stars here?”

“What?”

“There’s so much light pollution in New York that we can’t ever see the stars. It’s sad.”

She was looking up at the sky again. I was just looking at her.

“Yeah, I guess.”

She closed her eyes, her breathing starting to slow down, then she rested her head on my shoulder. After a couple minutes, I realized she was asleep. I reached over to gently shake her shoulder, but she just groaned softly and leaned into me more.

There was a pang in my chest as I remembered all the mornings she groaned and leaned into me as she was waking up, or all the nights she shifted in her sleep to get closer to me. I wanted to scream.

“Ma’am, come on. Let’s get you home.”

I managed to wake her up enough to get her on her feet. I scooped her up bridal style, and she immediately wrapped her arm around my neck and rested her head against my shoulder. I held my breath for a moment, and realized my heart was pounding loud enough that I could hear it.

I walked back to her apartment building, carrying her like that the whole way, then realized if I wanted to make sure she got into her apartment safely, my best option was the fire escape. I needed at least one free hand to get us up there.

“Karen, how do I do this?”

“Wake her up and ask her to hold onto you.”

“I don’t have a free hand to wake her up with.”

“Headbutt her.”

“What? No, I’m not gonna- I have to, don’t I?”

“Or you could drop her. That wakes people up.”

I sighed, then pressed my forehead to hers. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t headbutt her.

“Hey, wake up,” I said, sounding lamer than I thought possible. I shook her a little bit, and she stirred. She gave me a sleepy smile when she woke up. “Okay, I need to drop your legs, and then I need you to hold on tight so I can get you up to your apartment, okay?”

I was praying that she wouldn’t remember this so she couldn’t question how Spider-Man knew where she lived.

She nodded, so I slowly let her legs down, then kept my other arm firmly around her.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

God, her just-woke-up voice was still as raspy and endearing as I remembered. I struggled to hold it together. I shot a web up to the fire escape, and pulled us up, then carried her up the escape to her apartment.

I set her down outside her window and opened it for her.

“Are you okay? You’ll be fine for the night?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, “I’ll be okay.”

I helped her climb in, then crouched to talk to her. “No more wandering around late at night alone, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Michelle’s eyes were half-closed. She was falling asleep standing.

Her room looked different. She’d redecorated for fall. There were candles on her desk, on her dresser-

There was something else on her dresser. Something white and plastic looking. I zoomed in on it.

It was a pregnancy test. By the looks of it, it was positive.

Oh, god.

“Hey, um, get to bed, okay? You definitely need the sleep.”

“Will do, coach. Thanks for taking me home.”

“Just, you know, doing my job. Spider-Man and all.”

She smiled, then closed the window. I waved at her, taking one last good look at her smile, then jumped off the escape, landing in the alley behind her building.

“Karen, can you call Aunt May for me again?”

“Sure, Peter. Calling Aunt May.”

She sounded groggy when she answered. “Hi, Pete, you coming home yet?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way now. You can go back to sleep.”

“Okay. Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight.”

The call ended with a soft beep.

* * *

**October 7 th**

I woke up feeling like absolute hell. I could barely remember anything from the night before. I had the vague memory of being carried home, and I remembered absolutely nothing else.

The first thing I saw when I sat up was the test on the dresser.

Fuck. I had to tell Peter.

I found my phone, which was almost dead because I hadn’t plugged it in the night before, and texted Peter.

I felt guilty for not telling him yesterday, but he was perfectly understanding and told me he’d come pick me up and go to Planned Parenthood with me.

I had gotten so caught up in how angry I was at him, I almost forgot how sweet he was.

For a split second, I imagined what might’ve happened if we hadn’t broken up. If we stayed together through university and moved in together one day and got married and had a kid. I imagined making pancakes while Peter bounced a little kid on his hip.

I stopped myself when I realized I was smiling at the thought of a future with my ex-boyfriend.

I got dressed and got ready to go out, then headed downstairs, just in time to watch his car pull up outside the building. I walked up to the car and got in.

“Thanks again, Peter.”

“Yeah, of course. Are you doing okay? I haven’t seen you since-”

“I’m fine, Peter.”

I was staring straight ahead, but I could see him looking at me, concerned. “Michelle, I lost my parents too. You don’t have to-”

“Please, can we just go? I want to get this whole thing over with.”

He hesitated, then turned to face the road and started driving.

Halfway to the Planned Parenthood, he said, “If-if you are really pregnant, do you want to…keep the baby?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He hesitated. “O-okay. So, if we-we go in there and you’re pregnant, you’ll just…get an abortion?”

“I guess so.”

“Aren’t they painful? Don’t you want to, like, I don’t know, take some time to prepare or something?”

“They just make you sick for a couple days. They give you a pill, you take it, you bleed and cramp and puke for a few days, and then you’re fine.”

When I looked over, his eyes were impossibly wide. “That sounds like hell.”

“I go through that for a week every month.”

“Okay, if you have to get an abortion today, I’m taking you to get literally whatever you want.”

I laughed. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I don’t have to go through anything! You have to pee in a cup and then potentially go through several days of your insides coming out, and I just have to sit there and look pretty.”

I shrugged. “That’s kind of just…life, dude. Imagine if I actually wanted to keep the baby. You’d have to sit there and look pretty through months of nausea, wild cravings, not being able to eat certain things, mood swings, exhaustion-”

“Stop. Oh my god, I’m panicking just thinking about that.”

“You didn’t let me get to the part where I would have to spend hours in labour pushing a seven pound baby out-”

“MJ!”

I laughed. “You don’t even have to go through it!”

“Yeah, but I’d have to watch you go through it and there’d be nothing I could do. That freaks me out.”

“You could sit there and panic and it might make me laugh.”

“You’re such a jerk!”

I laughed again.

We got to the Planned Parenthood and parked, and then panic started to set in. I tried to hide it, but Peter noticed and stopped me from getting out of the car.

“Hey, MJ, it’s gonna be fine, okay?”

I realized that that was the second time he’d called me MJ today, and yet I wasn’t even mad about it. It was kind of comforting, actually. I didn’t need the distance Michelle put between us today. I needed a friend.

I let out a shaky breath. “I know that logically, but…”

“It’s scary.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s just do this.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m good,” I confirmed, giving him a half-smile before I got out of the car.

I shook with every step into the building, and my voice wavered the whole time I spoke to the receptionist, and my stomach twisted as I sat in the waiting room next to Peter.

All I wanted was to call my dad and talk to him and let him calm me down, but he was gone. He couldn’t do anything for me. He wouldn’t know that any of this had happened, he’d never be able to tell me that this is temporary, that it’ll all be over soon.

He’d never get the chance to meet his grandkids. That thought hit me like a ton of bricks, and suddenly it was impossible to breathe.

I pulled out my phone to text Miles, and then realized I hadn’t told him that I thought I was pregnant. I told him everything, then told him why I was panicking, and he was as calming and supportive as always. I asked him if I could come over after we were done at the clinic, and he said yes, so I turned to Peter.

“Can you drop me off at Miles’ after this?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.”

I was still shaking a little, so he slipped a hand into mine and squeezed.

It didn’t completely calm me down, but I felt the tension in my shoulders dissipate, and it got easier to breathe.

A few minutes later, a lady in blue scrubs came down the hall into the waiting room. “Michelle Jones?”

I stood up. “Can, um, can he come with me?”

She nodded, so Peter stood up, still holding my hand, and we followed her down the hall into an office. She handed me a little plastic cup.

“I’m assuming you know what to do.”

“Yep.”

“There’s a bathroom right through that door. I’ll get Dr. Moreau while you’re doing that.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Peter was still standing just inside the doorway awkwardly. The nurse gestured to a seat.

“You can take a seat if you’d like.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I went into a bathroom just off the office, peed in the cup, washed my hands, stared at myself in the mirror trying to calm myself down, then went back into the office.

Dr. Moreau was sitting at the desk, chatting with Peter. When she saw me, she gestured to the examination table.

“Miss Jones, take a seat.”

I put the cup of pee on her desk and sat down. Peter offered his hand, and I figured I was in no position to decline. I took his hand, and he ran his thumb over my knuckles.

“Okay, so, Mr. Parker here told me a little, but I’d like to hear your symptoms from you.”

As she spoke, she pulled a stick out of her desk drawer. It looked similar to the test I took at home, but a little more…professional.

“Um, so, I’ve been vomiting a lot, I’m nauseous pretty much all the time, I can’t eat a lot of the things I normally can without feeling nauseous, I’ve been dizzy, I’ve been running a fever, and I missed my period. I, um, I also did a pregnancy test at home and it was positive.”

Dr. Moreau nodded. “Have you been feeling more emotional lately?”

I hesitated. “Well, yes, but I also lost my dad last week.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry to hear about that. So, here’s the deal, a lot of those things can be chalked up to grief, but the fact that you tested positive is concerning. Those tests aren’t very reliable, but you did the right thing by coming in, okay? Have you two talked about what happens if you are pregnant?”

We both nodded.

“It’s better for both of us if I get an abortion,” I said. “My mom also, um, had a pretty rough pregnancy with me, and I’m still in school, and financially it’s just- babies are expensive and we’re high school students.”

The doctor nodded. “Mr. Parker?”

He looked at me. “She’s- she’s right.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek.

“Okay. Let’s test this, shall we?”

I found myself squeezing Peter’s hand as the doctor unwrapped the test, opened the cup, and dipped it in.

“So, if it turns pink, it’s positive.”

She pulled it out. I held my breath.

“You’re not pregnant.”

“Oh, thank god,” I sighed, relieved, and then laughed. “I think I felt my blood pressure drop.”

Dr. Moreau laughed. “It’s very possible.”

I looked over at Peter, but he was already looking at me. He looked sort of relieved, but there was also an emotion I couldn’t quite read on his face.

“You two are good to go, unless you have any questions.”

I shook my head. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, I-I don’t have any.”

“Alright. Have a good day.”

We left the office, hands still clasped together.

I could feel a weight lifting off my shoulders. I wasn’t pregnant. Everything was okay. I didn’t have to hold my breath.

We were walking through the waiting room, Peter in front of me so we could squeeze through, and I saw him look up at a poster with a baby on it and heard him say, “Maybe one day we’ll be hoping for a positive.”

I stopped cold in my tracks, letting go of his hand. “What?”

As he turned, he seemed to realize that he’d been thinking out loud. “Oh, um, nothing.”

“Peter, did you just say- do you want to have kids with me?” My voice was soft, but we were stopped in the middle of a waiting room. I could feel eyes on me.

“I, um, well, yeah. I-I do.”

My eyes were prickling. “Do you want a future with me?”

He dropped his eyes. “Yeah.”

Something in my chest twisted, and suddenly I was pissed. “So let me get this straight. You dumped me, and now you’re telling me that you hope we have kids together someday? What the fuck are you on, Parker?”

“MJ, please, can we talk about this in the car?”

I wasn’t registering his words. All I could hear was the blood pumping through my ears. “How dare you? It’s like you want this to hurt me. How-how is this even fair?”

“No, MJ, I don’t want to hurt you. Please, just-”

“You’re the one who ended things! And yeah, clearly we both still-still get jealous, but imagining our future is where I’m drawing the fucking line. You can get jealous over me hanging out with Connor all you want, but you cannot ever complain about the future we don’t get. We don’t get that future because you didn’t want it. That’s all on you.”

Every single person in the waiting room was staring at us. I realized there were tears streaming down my face. I pulled my sleeve over my hand and wiped them away.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.”

“MJ-”

I didn’t wait for him. I pushed past him and out of the clinic, walking out onto the sidewalk.

“MJ, wait!”

“What do you want, Parker?” I snapped. I couldn’t even turn to look at him. Part of me felt like a hypocrite, because this morning I’d been imagining our future, but he was the one who didn’t want me. He was the one who ended things. I was the one who was suffering for it, and I was goddamn angry.

“Where are you going?”

“Miles’ place.”

“That’s at least an hour from here if you’re walking, MJ. Just let me drive you.”

“I can’t even look at you.”

“Why not?”

He caught up to me and put a hand on my shoulder, spinning me to face him. I looked up. His eyes were watery and he had a couple loose curls falling down into his forehead.

“You’re looking at me now.”

My heart was pounding. His eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips. Before I could wonder if he was going to kiss me, he closed the space between us.

His lips were just as soft as I remembered.

And god, I was angry and hurt, and part of me wanted to push him away, but I was leaning into the kiss before I could stop myself. I’d missed his hands on my waist and the way he kissed, soft and slow, and feeling his hair tangled in my fingers. My chest didn’t feel empty and cold anymore. It was warm and full and I felt fine. For a brief moment, I felt fine.

And then Peter pulled away.

“I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry, MJ, I can’t do this to you-”

That warm feeling in my chest turned to fire. “What are you doing? You dump me, but you want a future with me. You kiss me and then push me away. Just make up your mind.”

“It’s not-”

“You can’t keep doing this to me, Peter. You’re keeping me on this-this leash, and I can’t just get over-”

“Stop!”

His voice broke and his eyes were welled with tears. I shut up, freezing in my tracks.

“What do you want me to say, MJ? You know I’m in love with you. You know I’d take a bullet for you. You know I would’ve helped you if you were pregnant. I can’t help any of that, okay? I can’t help that I want you more than anything but I can’t have you without running the risk of getting you hurt!” He was breathing hard, and shaking. “Just-just get in the car,” he said, voice quiet and miserable.

I was silent as I got in his car and let him drive me to Miles’ place. It was unbearably quiet and the air felt thick with tension. I could see him glance over occasionally out of the corner of my eye, but I refused to look at him. I was pissed off, but there were a million other emotions swirling around under that.

When we pulled up to Miles’, I got out of the car without a word.

“MJ, I’m-”

“Michelle,” I corrected, slamming the door shut. I walked into the building without looking back.

All I told Miles was that I wasn’t pregnant and that Peter had been nice enough to deal with me all day. I didn’t tell him about our argument or the kiss or the silent drive afterwards. It had happened in front of a bunch of people, but it felt super private. I knew I’d tell him at some point, but I didn’t tell him then. I wanted to keep that memory tight to my chest for a few days before I talked about it.

My mom called angrily later on, so I had to go home and deal with Brandon being gropey and creepy and gross, and the rest of the night sucked.

**October 9 th **

After they were done school, Harry, Liz, and Connor came by to keep me company. We mostly just sat in my living room and ate chips and watched _Austin Powers_.

At one point, Connor and Liz were texting under the table, and their expressions seemed to reflect each other’s, so they were clearly talking to each other. Liz seemed kinda bummed after they talked, but I still didn’t find out what they were talking about. I figured maybe he broke the news to her that he was gay and didn’t have feelings for her the way she did for him. She’d asked me after the night a few of us went swimming if anything was going on between Connor and I, and then admitted that she wanted to ask him out, and I didn’t want to out him or assume anything, so I didn’t tell her he was gay. I figured maybe she knew now.

Later on in the night, my mom came out of her room. I tensed up, sensing she wasn’t in a great mood.

“Michelle, when am I gonna stop getting calls from your school telling me you’ve skipped?”

“Sorry, I’ll email my advisor and tell her that my dad died-”

“No, you go back to school tomorrow. You have spent days moping about that no good, son of a bitch’s death, and I’m real sick of it. Get your goddamn shit together.”

“Mom, I know you didn’t have the best relationship with him, but-”

“He left us, Michelle. You shouldn’t spend a second upset about him. You shouldn’t have an ounce of sympathy for him. He left us because he wasn’t ready for a family and then what did he do? What did he do, Michelle?”

I rolled my eyes. “He started another family-”

“Yes, he did. Get yourself together and stop pitying yourself. Fuck’s sakes.”

She walked into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine, and went back into her room, slamming the door behind herself. I flinched.

“Nope. Nuh-uh,” Harry said, standing up.

I grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t say anything. He just pulled his hand free and went up to the door and knocked.

“Oh, no,” I whispered.

Connor and Liz stood up, too, getting in formation behind Harry. My mom opened the door.

“Apologize to MJ. Right now.” I had never heard Harry’s voice so hard and steadfast. He was not fucking around.

I held my breath. This could not end well.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Her dad fucking died, he knew he was dying and he kept it a secret, she had a whole-ass pregnancy scare, and on top of that, you’re being a shitty mother. Apologize to her,” Harry demanded.

She slammed the door shut, almost hitting Harry in the nose.

He sighed, and raised his hand to knock again.

“Harry, don’t.”

He looked at me, his knuckles millimetres from the door.

“You’ll just end up getting me in more trouble. I appreciate it, though.”

Connor and Liz came and sat back down. Harry stood there staring at the door for a few more seconds, clearly fuming.

“Harry,” Connor said, his voice soft. “Just come sit down.”

Harry looked at him and immediately softened, then came and sat down between Connor and I, stealing a chip from my bag.

“I still don’t like her.”

“Join the club.”

**October 10 th **

Brandon had come over during the night, and broke the lock in the morning. On top of that, I had a pretty shitty day at school, considering I was still in the depths of grief and dysfunction. Not to mention, seeing Peter wasn’t exactly fun. I wanted to go to Miles’ instead of going home, because the last thing I wanted was to deal with my mom or the potential of dealing with Brandon, but then I started thinking about how much I relied on Miles and how much of a burden I was to him and Mama Morales, and I was suddenly incredibly overwhelmed. I turned off my phone (so I didn’t have to deal with calls from my mom), got in my car, and headed to the abandoned building by the docks. The only person who really knew about it was Peter, and I doubted anybody would notice I was missing anyways, so I just left.

I sat up there for hours. It was quiet and I had a chance to just draw in my sketchbook for a few hours without interruptions or distractions. It was dark by the time another car pulled up next to mine. I didn’t pay too much attention, since there was a building next door that a drug dealer often made deals behind. I stayed focused on my drawing, but a few minutes later, I heard two familiar male voices. Peter’s head came up over the side of the building first. I closed my sketchbook.

“Michelle, you’re okay.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Peter climbed up onto the roof, then turned back and held out a hand. He pulled Harry up. Harry still had his backpack on, and actually approached me.

“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours, dude,” he said, sounding slightly miffed, but moreover, relieved.

“Oh, sorry. I turned off my phone.”

“No shit.”

Peter wouldn’t look me in the eye. Harry crouched down next to me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just kinda needed some time away from everything.” Not entirely a lie, but it worked.

“Okay, well, I needed to give you my notes for the History project we were working on, so here you go.” He pulled a bunch of stapled papers out of his backpack.

“Thanks.”

“You should turn on your phone and respond to everyone’s frantic texts, dude.”

“Right.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, but couldn’t get up the energy to deal with the notifications as they popped up on my screen.

Harry seemed to sense my discomfort, pulled out his phone, and texted the group chat to let them know I was okay.

“Thanks,” I said quietly, putting my sketchbook and pencils back in my bag.

“Of course, MJ.”

He helped me to my feet.

“So…how do we get down?” Harry asked.

Peter pointed to a water pipe. “You just slide down that.”

“Are you serious?”

“Here, I’ll go first,” Peter offered. He knelt down, grabbed on, and slid down the pipe.

“What the hell?” Harry said. “Nope. That’s a no.”

“I’m not going down until after you go, so if you want me to go home and get work done on this project…”

“Alright, damn.”

He followed Peter’s lead, and slid down without a problem. I slid down the water pipe and landed next to Harry.

“I’m, um, gonna head home and answer all those texts and get started on my half of the project.”

“Sounds good, Jones.”

“See you later, Osborn.”

“See you tomorrow, Michelle.”

I waved at the two, pulled my keys out of my pocket, and unlocked my car. I saw Peter unlock his car out of the corner of my eyes.

I missed sitting passenger in his car and holding his hand and singing along to music with him. Those were good times.

But Brandon was still sitting on the couch when I got home, and I felt my stomach sink.

“Hey, Michelle. How was school?”

I felt chills go up my spine at the sound of his voice. “Fine. It was fine.”

“Have a few drinks with me.”

I thought about Murphy, sitting scared in my room.

“Sure.”

I sat down and had a couple beers with him. I felt like my skin was crawling. He drank a little more than me, and these weren’t his first drinks of the night, so he started to get extra creepy. He pushed the hair off my shoulder and let his fingers graze over my neck, shoulder, and collarbone. I struggled not to tense up or pull away. I had to just comply and then hopefully he’d just leave Murphy alone.

After a good hour of this, he got a phone call, so I peeled away and went into my room, petted Murphy and refilled his food and water bowls, then went out onto the fire escape just to get a breath of fresh air.

I pulled out my phone and texted Miles, and at first, we just talked about the Planned Parenthood incident and Peter kissing me. I didn’t tell him that Brandon got me drunk at first, I just told him that I was drunk because I was tired of feeling things. Eventually, the conversation turned to me feeling gross and broken and dirty, and Miles tried to convince me to spend the night as his place. I couldn’t do that. I relied on him too much. That was the whole point of me spending the evening at the docks. He insisted on driving over, and staying outside my building, and I begged him to go home. I couldn’t let him get hurt over me. We went back and forth for what felt like forever. He tried to come up with all kinds of solutions. But eventually I managed to get him to just go home.

I heard Brandon yelling for me, so I went crawled back through the window and left my room.

He poured me another drink when he saw me.

“You should take off that sweater. It’s warm in here. Don’t need you sweating, do we?”

I frowned, but it wasn’t a request, so I took the sweater off. He grabbed it out of my hand, replacing it with the drink, threw the sweater on the loveseat, and made me sit down on the couch with him. I sipped at the drink he’d given me. It was a very strong vodka soda, and I wanted to pour it out the second it touched my tongue, but I powered through.

“You grew up to be really beautiful, you know that? You just grew up to be the sexiest little minx.”

God, I was uncomfortable. He was staring at me in my tank top and jeans, and talking about- ugh. It made me shiver.

He kept making comments like that, and getting me more drinks, and about an hour passed before I realized something was very wrong. I couldn’t string together words, I had double vision, and I felt like I was made of jelly and white noise. I looked at the bottom of my glass and saw white specks.

I hadn’t seen him pour the drink. Had he drugged me?

“I-I’m cold. I want my sweater.”

I stood up, and immediately started to tip over. Brandon launched to his feet and grabbed me, pulling my arm so I fell into his chest.

My mom was a few feet away, cleaning up in the kitchen, and she wasn’t even paying attention to this. Her daughter, in the next room, being groped by her boyfriend, and now-

“You need to lay down.”

“No, I don’t want to. Brandon, I don’t-”

“Shhh, let’s get you into your mom’s room.”

He pulled me into my mom’s room, and I tried to resist, but moving my limbs felt like moving through setting cement. I couldn’t see, or think, or speak properly, and all I knew was fear. Pure, cold fear.

The door slammed behind us, and he turned to look at me, and I swear he looked hungry.

Oh, no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys so chapter 19 will be a continuation of what happens after Brandon pulls MJ into her mom's room. It's pretty intense, so again, if that's something triggering for you, SKIP IT. There are some very important elements (hence why I still included the chapter despite it being so uncomfortable) but I made it it's own chapter SPECIFICALLY so it'd be easier to skip if need be. If you skip it and you're confused about certain details later on, DM me and I'll explain anything you need to know. :)


	19. pleasenopleasenopleaseno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual assault/rape.  
> This chapter goes into what happens after the last chapter. It's not awfully graphic, but it's uncomfortable and disturbing. I split it off of Chapter 18 specifically so it'd be easy to skip if it'd be triggering. If you can read it without being triggered, please do, because details in this chapter will come up again later in the storyline and it's important background to have.  
> The song for this chapter is 124 on the playlist.

****

**October 10 th **

Oh, no.

“Brandon, please, I can-”

He picked me up and threw me on the bed, knocking the air out of me. I gasped desperately for air, drunk and drugged and painfully out if it, and he used that moment of distraction to get on top of me, knees on either side of my hips.

“Michelle, you really did grow up to be a gorgeous young woman.” He pulled the tank top off of me, his fingers brushing over my stomach and chest as he did. I was shaking, terrified, because now I knew exactly what was coming. I may have been loopier than a goddamn rollercoaster at Six Flags, but I knew what he was going to do to me, and I was absolutely petrified.

“Please. Please don’t. Please just get off of me and let me go and I won’t bother you. _Please please please_.”

He stuffed the tank top in my mouth, effectively gagging me. “Don’t touch that.” I didn’t want him to hurt me more, so I didn’t. I watched him, my eyes squinting and straining to see clearly enough, as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off of me. I tried to kick my legs, to stop him or hurt him or at least make things harder for him, but I only managed a small flail, which didn’t impede his efforts at all.

I still had my underwear on, but I felt so open and bare. It was cool in the room, and terror shot shivers up my spine.

I watched as he unbuttoned his pants, went to the nightstand, and pulled out a condom. “Babies would ruin your physique. Besides, we can’t have any evidence, can we?”

As he rolled the on the condom, I started to reach up. I wanted to pull the tank top out of my mouth and tell him to fuck off and leave me alone and to stop, but he grabbed my wrist.

“I told you not to touch that.” His voice was pure ice-cold evil, and his eyes glimmered, like he was enjoying this. I couldn’t get enough air in through my nose, and I was completely smashed, and this man was half a foot taller than me and twice my weight. I did not stand a chance. There was no version of this where I left unscathed.

He reached under my back and unhooked my bra. My breathing wasn’t normal. It was irregular and shallow and panicked. I was panicked. He pulled the bra off of me, then my panties. I didn’t want this. He knew I didn’t want this.

He got on top of me again, and then it started. I was whimpering and making all kinds of strangled, muffled noises through the shirt in my mouth. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the bed, gripping hard enough to bruise.

And it hurt.

It hurt so bad.

The whole bed moved and shook. I was trying to fight back, trying to wiggle free, trying to get him to stop. But facts were facts. I was at every disadvantage. I wasn’t strong enough.

He let go of my left wrist, putting a hand over my face to block my nostrils. I tried to scream through the tank top, but I ran out of air. I tried to thrash, moved my head from side to side, tried to grab his wrist even though my grip was weak, tried to get him off. But I was out of oxygen and weak and he was much stronger and much more lucid. I started to black out, my vision getting blurrier and then fading, but then he took his hand away.

He was grinning.

I realized it was futile and stopped fighting. I laid still and let him finish. It felt like it went on for an eternity. When he was done, he pulled away, eyes raking over my bare form, and laughed.

“Would you look at that. I made you bleed. Guess you’ve never had a real man.”

He was still chuckling to himself as he left the room.

My wrists were sore, not to mention my whole pelvic area. I managed to pull the top out of my mouth, then gasped for breath. I took a minute to catch up on oxygen intake, then got dressed as fast as I could. It hurt, and I was clumsy from the alcohol and whatever drug he’d given me. The tank top was moist from my mouth, so I gave up and just held it in my hand as I rushed to my room. I grabbed clothes to sleep in, then headed into the bathroom.

He was right. I was bleeding. He’d hurt me so bad that when I sat down on the toilet, blood started to drip into the porcelain bowl.

I was so intoxicated that it fascinated me rather than scared me. The contrast of the red on white.

I stripped and got into the shower, deciding the hot water would help me regain some sobriety. I probably wasn’t even conscious enough to register what had just happened to me.

I cleaned myself off, scrubbing every inch of skin until my skin was pink and almost raw, wishing it’d wash off that dirty, violated feeling.

I got out of the shower, dried off, changed into my clothes, used a pad to help with the bleeding issue, then went back to my room, dirty clothes balled up in a towel so I could dump them in my hamper.

Since the lock on my door was broken, I used the chair from my vanity to secure the door. I couldn’t sleep without some thin veil of security.

I’d convinced Miles to go home around quarter to two. It was now almost four in the morning.

I briefly considered asking him to pick me up, but then I looked at Murphy, who was curled up in his bed, tail tucked between his legs.

I picked Murphy up and brought him up onto the bed. He cuddled up next to me once I laid down. I cried into his fur for a few minutes, then fell asleep.


	20. The R Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, kiddos. This chapter is MUCH lighter than the last two, but there is still some mention of sexual assault. It's pretty minor, and it's nothing graphic at all, but I thought I should warn y'all.  
> Songs for this chapter are 125- 136 (side note: it's really hard to curate the playlist now without putting songs on it that I've already put on yikesss)

**October 11 th **

After school, I went to Miles’ place. He’d stayed home all day sick, and I felt…violated and gross from the night before. I wasn’t sure how to cope. Every time I closed my eyes, I just saw Brandon over me, blurred and in shadows.

I barely spoke the whole evening. He knew I was upset about something, and tried to press about it a little, but eventually just gave up. Mama Morales came home and made lasagna for us, so we all ate and then watched a movie, and then Miles pulled me into his room, closed the door, and sat down in his desk chair. I sat down cross-legged on his bed. All his covers were ruffled since he never made his bed properly, but it was almost comforting. Things didn’t have to be clean and pristine and perfect. Things could be ruffled and messy and still just be little things that add character. Although, I didn’t think bedroom décor was a good analogy for humans.

“MJ, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what happened after I left last night.”

I shook my head. “It was nothing.”

“MJ, your wrists are bruised. Did he hit you or something?”

“No,” I said, completely honest. Brandon didn’t hit me a single time last night.

“What did he do?”

“It was nothing,” I repeated. “Just drop it, okay? Can we talk about something else?”

“MJ…”

“What?”

“You look like hell.”

I looked at my reflection in the window next to his bed. My hair was a frizzy mess, the dark circles under my eyes were purple, and the baggy sweater that was two sizes too big wasn’t doing me any favours. I looked like I’d crawled out of a dumpster.

“Thanks, bro.”

“I don’t mean- MJ, how much did you sleep?”

I had to think about it. I went to bed at four, couldn’t sleep for more than twenty minutes at a time, and woke up for school at seven. I got an hour and a half, maybe two hours?

“Not much,” I admitted.

“Tell me how much.” Miles was in full-on protective brother mode.

“Two hours, maybe.”

He closed his eyes, clearly trying to keep his cool. “Maybe.”

“I couldn’t stay asleep.”

“For fuck’s sake, MJ, why won’t you just talk to me?”

“Why won’t you just fuck off about it?” I snapped, raising my voice. I was angry out of nowhere, but being angry felt better than feeling broken, so I went with it.

“Because I’m trying to help you!”

“It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Of course it is, dude, I was supposed to protect you and you wouldn’t let me-”

“I don’t need your fucking protection! I’m not some annoying little sister, Miles, I’m like a week younger than you and I can hold my fucking own.”

He looked stunned, and then he looked away, hurt. All that anger dissolved and I just felt guilty.

“No, Miles, I didn’t mean that.”

“You’re right, though, you’re not my little sister. You’re that monster’s daughter and I can’t believe she’d bring Brandon back even though you guys are fine financially-”

I got off the bed and walked over to him, sitting on his desk. “I’m fine,” I lied. “It’s all fine.”

He grabbed my hand, and rolled my sleeve back from where it was, half-covering my hand, all the way to my elbow. The bruising around my wrist was purple and blue, blooming like flowers. “Is this what fine looks like to you?”

I took my hand back, pulling my sleeve back down over my hand. “Leave it alone, Miles.”

“I’m just- can you please just admit that things aren’t okay? You don’t have to tell me what he did, just admit that things aren’t okay so I can hug you and tell you things will get better.”

“You know I can’t do that, Miles.”

Miles stood up and wrapped his arms around me. “Things will get better.”

Goddammit, he made it hard not to cry sometimes. I couldn’t, though, because then he’d know something was really wrong, and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to relive it, and moreover, I didn’t want Miles to look at me differently. I didn’t want him to say “I told you so”, or get mad at me, or be disappointed in me.

I didn’t know how to talk about it. I didn’t know how to call it what it was. I knew what is what, and I knew that it had really happened, but calling it what it was felt like acknowledging that it was real.

I buried my face in his sweater and tried not to cry, scared to pull away in case seeing his face was the last straw.

He hugged me for a few minutes, until I pulled away first. I couldn’t meet his eyes for a couple seconds, and when I did it was hard not to just break down and tell him everything. I told him everything, especially big things, and this felt huge.

“Are you good, Jones?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It’s getting late, do you wanna just go to bed?”

I rubbed a hand over my face. “I don’t even know if I’m gonna be able to sleep.”

“Then you can read. Or just lay down. You look exhausted, MJ.”

I sighed, and gave in. “Okay.”

I went into the guest room where I’d stashed my bag of stuff. Miles told me to stay for a week, which was fine by me. I’d packed up about half my clothes and anything else important to me. Most of it was in my car in the parking lot downstairs, but I brought up a bag with a couple changes of clothes, my sketchbook, and a couple books I was reading at the moment. Murphy was with Connor, so he was safe. I could relax.

I changed and got ready for bed, then sat and read for a couple hours. Reading was a welcome escape. I could get lost in someone else’s life and not worry about everything else.

I finished the book and didn’t have the energy to go across the room to the desk to pick up my other one, so I just got under the covers and tried to sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was Brandon, feel his hands wrapped around my wrists, feel his weight on top of me. _“Michelle, you really did grow up to be a gorgeous young woman.”_

I didn’t realize I was full-on sobbing until Miles knocked on the door.

“MJ? I can hear you crying from my room. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, whatever,” I sniffled, sitting up against the headboard.

He opened the door slowly, then closed it behind him and sat down next to me on the bed. I gave in. It hurt too bad. I fell across his lap, crying hard enough that I lost my breath.

I didn’t know how a person could feel so much pain, yet feel so completely numb. So grey, but also feel like everything was red.

“What did Brandon do?” Miles asked, his voice quiet and gentle. He was rubbing my shoulder as I cried. I felt absolutely pathetic. “MJ, you told me he got handsy with you last night, so I know- I know how he hurt you. You just have to tell me how bad.”

I couldn’t say it. I didn’t even know which euphemism to use.

“MJ, how bad was it?”

“About as bad as it gets,” I admitted, managing to keep my voice fairly even.

Miles made me sit upright again. “Please tell me he didn’t go as far as I think he did.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say that truthfully, and Miles almost always knew when I was lying, anyways.

“Fuck. Holy fuck, I’m going to kill him.”

“Miles-”

“No, I should’ve done it the second he laid a hand on you, but _rape_ , MJ? That’s- that’s-”

I winced. “I know, but you can’t just go over there and-”

“The hell I can’t-”

“He will kick your ass, Miles.”

“He raped you.”

I shuddered. “Don’t say that.”

“That’s what it is, MJ. He fucking-”

“Don’t,” I demanded. I probably didn’t look very menacing, what with the tears on my face and the general air of helplessness, but he stopped cold. Then he got up and headed for the door. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go have a _discussion_ with him.”  

I got out of bed, following him. “You can’t do that, Miles. Miles, stop, please, you’ll just get hurt-”

By this point I was following him through the living area towards the front door. He stopped, then turned and called, “Mom! MJ needs a hug.”

Mama Morales came out of her room immediately.

“No, no, I don’t need a hug, I need Miles to not do a stupid thing that will get him hurt.”

“What’s the stupid thing?” Mama Morales asked, taking my hands with both of hers despite my protests.

“I’m gonna go beat up MJ’s rapist.”

“Miles! I told you-”

“Not to say it, I know.”

“I’m sorry, your what?”

“Brandon,” I said simply.

Mama Morales gripped my hands a little tighter.

“Miles. Go.”

“What? No!”

I pulled my hands away and ran after Miles, just to get the door slammed in my face.

“MJ,” Mama Morales said, “do you want-”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” I snapped.

She came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I was going to ask if you wanted some hot chocolate.” Her voice was gentle and soothing. I turned and wrapped my arms around her, and she hugged me tight enough to crush me just slightly.

“I will never say no to hot chocolate,” I whispered, trying not to cry again. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been through a lot in the last week.”

“It’s not okay, I yelled at you.”

“You’re forgiven, MJ, I promise.”

I pulled away from the hug, so she had me follow her into the kitchen while she made me hot chocolate.

“Did I ever tell you why I kicked out Miles’ dad?”

I shook my head. “We were eight. You said we wouldn’t understand.”

“He did the same thing to me that Brandon did to you. A few times, actually. I didn’t want to acknowledge it for a while, because I didn’t want you and Miles to lose him, but over time it got worse and worse…”

“So you kicked him out.”

“And I never told Miles, because I knew he’d track that man down and show him hell. I don’t need Miles to have that experience. I’d rather they just remain estranged and Miles doesn’t hurt himself over this,” Mama Morales explained.

I frowned. “But you told him-”

“To go after Brandon. Brandon hurt you, and you don’t have a way of kicking him out or defending yourself. You have to run. Miles doesn’t.”

“It’s not his battle,” I argued.

“Yes, it is. You’re family. We don’t let people get away with hurting family.” She poured a mug of hot chocolate, put some whipped cream on top, and handed it to me. “He’s very protective of you.”

“He’s protective of you, too. And he deserves to know about his dad-”

“I know he does. I’m just scared of what he’ll do. He’s not a huge fan of his dad to begin with.”

“I know.” I sipped the hot chocolate. “So now we wait, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence as Mama Morales washed the dishes and I drank the hot cocoa.

“Brandon could very easily overpower Miles,” I said. “I’m worried.”

“So am I.”

The two of us ended up sitting in the living room, clutching each other’s hands as we stared at the TV. I couldn’t even tell you what we were watching. I was just hoping Miles would come home unscathed, because if he got hurt, that was on me.

An hour had passed, and neither of us had heard anything from Miles. I tried to tell myself he was trying to cheer me up by getting me ice cream or something, and that’s why he was taking so long. But with every minute that passed, my shoulders tensed and my stomach sank more and more.

Eventually, the front door swung open. Mama Morales and I jumped up and ran to the door. Miles was standing there, covered in blood and bruises. My stomach twisted.

“You should see the other guy,” he joked, his voice soft and weak. He was swaying slowly, his eyes were half-closed. He looked like he was about to pass out. I grabbed his arm, putting it around my shoulders so he could lean some of his weight on me as I walked him over to the couch. Mama Morales grabbed a rag, ran it under water, and used another rag to wrap an ice pack.

“Sit down,” I told him.

“I’m fine.”

“Miles, sit,” Mama Morales said, coming over with the ice pack and wet rag. Miles reluctantly sat down. Mama Morales handed the rag and ice pack to me. “Try to stop as much of the bleeding as you can. I’m gonna grab the car keys.”

“Car keys?” Miles asked.

“We’re going to the ER.”

“Mom, no, I’m fine.”

“Your face is bleeding like the goddamn Niagara Falls, son. We’re going to the hospital whether you like it or not.”

I sat down next to Miles and started to clean the blood off of him. It was everywhere. His hands, his shirt, his neck, his hair. I was trying to be gentle, but I still caught him wincing once or twice.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hurt him as bad as he deserved,” Miles whispered. He touched my wrist when he said it.

“That’s not your job,” I told him, refusing to look him in the eye. If I looked him right in those big, apologetic, puppy-dog eyes right now, I’d fall apart. I was holding myself together by a single thread, and I couldn’t afford to unravel.

“I’m your big brother, of course it’s my job.”

Tears were welling in my eyes. Apparently, I didn’t need to know how he was looking at me to unravel, I just had to hear the pain in his voice.

“MJ-”

“Don’t,” I said, my voice breaking. I took a deep breath, trying to pull myself together, then added, “Let’s just clean you up and go to the hospital.”

“You’re allowed to cry. He did something horrible to you.”

“He did something horrible to you, too. Because of me.”

“Because of him.”

I shook my head. “Because of me.”

Mama Morales came back into the room. “Has the bleeding stopped?”

“Nope. Still pretty bad.”

“Alright. MJ, you’re sitting in the back with Miles on the way to the hospital. Let’s go.”

We went down to the garage, Miles leaning on me, his blood staining my shirt as we went. Mama Morales and I helped him into the car, then I knelt on the seat next to him, pressing the rag to a deep cut on his forehead. How hard do you have to get hit for a cut that bad?

“Can I- can I have the ice pack?” Miles asked.

I handed it to him, and he pressed it to his jaw, where there was a nasty bruise forming.

“I’m sorry,” Miles told me again.

“Don’t be.”

“No, I’m sorry that I did something stupid and made you worry, and then got myself hurt which only made you worry more, and at the end of it all, Brandon’s got maybe one bruise to show for the whole thing.”

“You got one hit in?”

“Yeah, well, the second I hit him, he hit me back, and I lost my balance, and he ended up kicking the shit out of me.”

“ _WHAT?_ ” Mama Morales and I shouted in unison.

Mama Morales put her pedal to the medal.

“Jesus, what’s the big deal?”

“Internal bleeding, that’s the big deal, asshole!” I yelled. “Were you not planning on telling us? That could’ve killed you!”

Miles shrugged. “I can walk, can’t I?”

Mama Morales scoffed. “Barely.”

We got to the hospital and dragged him in. I sat with him while Mama Morales talked to the receptionist and signed some forms.

“I hope you know this doesn’t get you out of going to the party with me tomorrow,” Miles said.

“Are you fucking serious? You want to party like this?”

Miles shrugged. “Girls love bad boys.”

I couldn’t help it. I cracked up.

“We both know the only girl you’re trying to impress is Cindy, Morales,” I teased.

“Hey, I can impress other girls.”

“You’re not trying to, though.”

“Oh, shut up, Jones.”

“You just want me to shut up because you know I’m right.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

We waited a little longer for a doctor to see Miles. They cleaned him up, gave him some stitches, and then gave him a blood transfusion and a ton of painkillers. Mama Morales and I sat next to his bed all night, as doctors and nurses came in and out of the room, and Miles dozed on and off.

**October 12 th **

Miles was discharged around noon, but neither of us particularly felt like going to school, so we hung out at his place all afternoon, baking and watching movies.

Evening rolled around, so I took a shower and tamed my curls, then slapped on some makeup and an outfit, and got ready to go.

Miles stood, arms crossed, in front of the door.

“Are you sure you’re wearing that?”

I looked down. I was wearing sneakers, ripped black jeans, and a crop top with holes torn in it. I'd specifically chosen a top with long sleeves, hoping nobody would noticed the bruises on my wrists.

“Oh, come on, Miles, she looks cute,” Mama Morales said. “It’s not like you’ve never seen her in anything more revealing.”

“It’s a party, Mom, and guys are assholes at parties. Just trying to keep her safe.”

“Then watch her drink and her back and she’ll be fine,” Mama Morales shot back, her tone signalling the end of the discussion. “Text me if you guys want a ride home, okay?”

“Okay. Uber’s here, ready to go?”

I grabbed my phone off the kitchen counter, where I’d left it when we were baking, and shoved it in my back pocket. “Yeah, let’s go.”

We took the Uber to the party, and not five seconds after we got out of the car, Connor was grabbing us and dragging us inside.

“Thank goodness you guys are here. So far, the only person I know who’s here is Harry, and-”

“And you’re too in love with him to talk to him?” I teased.

“Shut up, I’m not in love with him,” Connor shot back, cheeks suspiciously rosy.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

“MJ!”

I turned around, trying to figure out who called my name. Jessie was standing at a table, ping pong ball in her hand.

“I need a beer pong partner!”

I went over, and helped her brutally lose a round of beer pong to Ellie and Flash. But Jessie’s stubborn, so she made me stay and play another round against them, which we brutally lost again. Ellie was killing it.

Maybe all the beer I drank during the round was kicking in, or maybe I was seeing things right, but Flash was staring at Ellie quite…adoringly. It was almost cute, if you ignored the fact that Flash was an asshole.

Jessie was ready to enact revenge during a third round, but Connor pulled me away.

“You should maybe slow down. You don’t wanna get too drunk too fast.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” I was barely slurring.

“MJ, come on, just play a round of Cards Against Humanity with Harry, Miles and I and-”

“WHO WANTS TO DO SHOTS!”

I turned to see Harry, standing on a table with two bottles of tequila.

“What were you saying about Cards Against Humanity with Harry?”

“MJ-”

It was too late. I had made a beeline for Harry, and he got down off the table, handing me a bottle.

“How many shots, milady?” he asked, clearly already tipsy.

I held up three fingers so I didn’t have to shout over the music. He poured the shots and I pounded them back.

The alcohol hit hard. I’d had however much beer you ingest during two losing rounds of beer pong, plus three shots of tequila, in a very small window of time, without much food in my stomach. Before long, I was a little dizzy. Not in the way that makes you want to lie down or throw up, but in the fun way. The way that makes you giggle as you lean against your friend.

Harry and I ended up dancing together, both of us drunk and bad at dancing. Then we joined Connor and Miles to play Cards Against Humanity, but mostly just put down the dumbest cards and then gigged relentlessly about it. Miles was a bit of a sad drunk tonight, sitting and staring at Cindy, who was dancing with Matty. He had his arm shoved in a bag of chips, and sat against a wall, cracking the occasional smile at some of the cards we played.

After two or three rounds, Connor was bored of us being drunk and stupid and very unfunny, and the game ended. It was fine by Harry, because Harry just got to go up and talk to Connor, the two of them just slightly invading each other’s personal space as they shouted over the music. Occasionally, Harry would start to tip over, and Connor would grab his arm, pull him upright, and take his hand away just a second too late for it to be just friendly. They were both blushing profusely.

Miles and I were talking in a corner when Peter came up to me. The tops of his cheeks and nose were red from the alcohol. He said something to me, but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of Taylor Swift saying the old Taylor was dead or some bullshit.

“What was that?” I shouted.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Like in private?”

“Yeah.”

I looked to Miles, but he waved me off. I nodded at Peter, then said, “Let’s go upstairs. It’s quieter.”

I led him up the stairs to a quiet little nook.

“I, uh, I wanted to apologize to you. About the Planned Parenthood thing.”

“Oh, oka-”

“Matty, there’s a room right here.” That was Cindy’s voice. I looked up just in time to see her pull Matty into a bedroom, both of them grinning, and close the door behind them.

All of a sudden, I remembered my dad’s funeral was Sunday. “Peter?” God, this was a terrible idea, but I knew seeing Peter there would be at least a little comforting.

“Yeah?”

“Will you come to my dad’s funeral?”

“Wha- are you- are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s, um, it’s Sunday.”

“Sure. Of course. If you want me to, I’m there.”

“Thanks.” I blinked. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Just that I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that last weekend. You had every right to be mad at me, because I-”

I wasn’t listening anymore. I could see his lips moving, but I wasn’t thinking about what was coming out of them. I was thinking about how they’d felt against mine last weekend. And then I was thinking about all of the nights we’d spent together, and the mornings when I’d woken up next to him, and before I could tell myself it was a bad idea, I was grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him towards me.

There was a split second of hesitation. What if he didn’t want to kiss me? What if that had been a one-time thing, and he never wanted to touch me again? Knowing what he knew, I can imagine why he wouldn’t want to. Imagine if he knew about what had happened the other night.

There was barely a centimetre between our lips as my mind raced, wondering what he wanted. But then he closed the space, kissing me desperately. He was pushing me up against the wall behind me, our bodies pressed together. His mouth tasted like sweet alcohol, like he’d had wine coolers or jello shots or something.

You would think that after what Brandon did to me, I’d never want to have sex again. I’d never want to be touched again. But Peter’s hands were roaming my body and all I could think was that I wanted him, right now, more than anything else.

Peter was safe. I’d be safe.

I took a hand off of him and reached out, hoping to find a door handle. I did, the broke the kiss to pull him into the bedroom.

“MJ, are you sure you want-”

“Absolutely.”

I never felt the panic, or the trapped feeling I’d felt with Brandon. This was Peter. He was safe and warm and careful with me. The weight on top of me was comforting rather than threatening, and the feeling of his hands on me didn’t make me want to shrink away. He noticed the bruises, too, but he never said anything about them. I guess even Drunk Peter could pick up on the things I didn't want to talk about.

We came out of the bedroom, only for me to go home with him and have sex with him all over again.

Maybe it was stupid and reckless, but it cleared my mind for a night, and that was all I really wanted.

**October 13 th **

I woke up with my head on Peter’s chest. I couldn’t tell if the pounding was his heart or my hangover.

It was bittersweet, because this was temporary and meaningless, but it felt good and safe and familiar. I didn’t want to move. He had his arms wrapped around me, and the blankets were pulled up over us, and I felt so cozy and warm.

I closed my eyes again, wishing I could just fall asleep again and stay here indefinitely.

A few minutes passed before Peter stirred, his arms getting tighter around me as he woke up.

“Hey. Good morning.”

He was only whispering, but it hurt my head. I groaned, turning my face into his chest. “Is it?”

He didn’t say anything to that. I rolled off of him, stretching my arms over my head. I caught his eyes lingering on my wrists.

“What time is it?” I asked, hoping to draw his attention away.

He grabbed his phone off of his nightstand. “Quarter past eleven.”

“Gross.”

He chuckled. “Always such a morning person.”

“Don’t remind me.”

I pulled the blankets tighter around myself, rolling over, effectively stealing all the blankets from him.

“Hey!”

He tickled me, trying to get some of the covers back. I giggled, trying to kick him off and simultaneously keep the covers on my side of the bed.

This felt right. It felt like it used to, when we were still together. There was a pang in my chest as I remembered what it was like back then, when I somehow had a side on his twin sized bunk bed. The side closest to the wall was my side, even if I was always lying on top of Peter. It was my side.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You spaced out for a second.”

“Oh. Hangover,” I lied.

Peter stared at me, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He looked all disheveled from our night’s events, and his eyes were squinted because of the sunlight coming in through the window. It lit up his face, and all I wanted to do was grab it with both hands and kiss him.

I couldn’t, though. It was one night. One, stupid, reckless night that now I had to pretend didn’t happen, because otherwise I’d go back to missing him so hard it hurt.

As if it had ever stopped hurting.

“Do you want some Advil?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

I couldn’t imagine that Peter felt any better than I did. He generally got much worse hangovers than I did, and from what I could tell, he’d had a lot to drink last night. But he went into the kitchen to get me some Advil and a glass of water. I sat up, wishing I wouldn’t have to give Peter his shirt back when I got changed. It smelled like him. This whole room smelled like him. I pulled the covers tighter around myself, wishing the smell would stick to my skin or my hair.

“Are you cold? I can turn up the thermostat,” Peter said, coming back in with Advil and water.

“That’s fine. I should probably head over to Miles’ soon anyways.”

I took the Advil and drank half the glass. Peter gave me a pointed look, so I finished the water.

“I can make you breakfast if you want,” he offered. He looked kind of shy, like he was worried I was about to brutally reject him. I bit my lip. God, it was hard not to be in love with him.

“I can’t turn down a free breakfast, can I?”

He smiled, then headed out of the room into the kitchen. I took the opportunity to change back into my clothes. I’d have to do a walk of shame the few blocks to Miles’ apartment, but that was fine. It wasn’t like last night’s clothes were skin tight latex or anything, it was just my normal clothes.

I went out into the kitchen and sat on the counter while he made us omelets.

“How’s your head doing?” I asked.

“It’s okay. I took some Advil, too, so it’s not too bad.”

“Peter, you get hangovers like nobody’s business.”

He averted his eyes. “Well, it’s not great, but I’m okay.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Whatever you say.”

“Hey, it’s not like a hangover’s gonna confine me to bed all day.”

“They have in the past.”

He paused. “Okay, that’s a fair point, but still-”

I laughed again, and then he laughed.

We ate breakfast together, and then I started to get my stuff together to head back to Miles’ place.

“MJ, can we- can we talk for a second?” Peter asked, as I found my phone under his bed and put it in my pocket.

“Sure.”

“I- I, um, I just think that we- I- are we-”

“One-night thing, Parker,” I interrupted, sensing where he was going with that.

“And what if- what if I don’t want this to be a one-night thing?”

“You mean like getting back together?”

He nodded. He couldn’t meet my eyes.

“You still won’t tell me why you broke up with me. There’s no trust here. We’re not even friends. You’ll kiss me and-and tell me you want a future with me, and then you’ll push me away like it’s all just some game to you. I’m not putting myself through something I know is only going to hurt me.” I’m not going to put myself through this, knowing you’ll leave the second you find out what happened with Brandon.

“I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you. No, you’re right. We shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have-”

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have,” I snapped. “I’ll see you at school, Parker. Thanks for the omelets.”

I left the apartment, hearing a soft, “You’re welcome, Michelle,” as the door closed behind me.

I texted Connor back as I walked towards the elevators. He pressed about Peter and I. I told him it was just sex. He told me I wasn’t an “it’s just sex” type of person. I told him people change.

I hadn’t changed at all, to be clear. Sex wasn’t meaningless to me, it had always held meaning. But last night that meaning wasn’t about whatever feelings I had for Peter. It was about feeling in control of my body.

Which I didn’t feel now, but I’d felt it then. It’d felt good.

Connor kept pressing, and pressing, and pressing. Eventually I caved, telling him everything. I told him about my childhood, and how Brandon usually acted, and then Wednesday night. Connor insisted I head over to his place, and I was only halfway to Miles’ and Connor had Murphy, so I took a left turn and went to Connor’s.

He ordered pizza, which arrived about ten minutes after I did, and we sat on his living room floor, petting Murphy and eating pizza and talking. He realized pretty quickly that I didn’t want to talk about Brandon or anything like that, so we talked about other stuff. After Peter and I had disappeared into a bedroom at the party, Harry had made out with some guy. He’d texted me before about questioning his sexuality and being into Connor, but he was fairly secretive about it, so I didn’t expect him to go and play tonsil hockey with another guy at the party. Connor seemed pretty upset about it, too.

“I don’t understand why you went and found him and took care of his drunk ass after all of that,” I said.

Connor shrugged. “I’m a sucker, I guess. And he was cute when he was drunk. He’s been weird about it today, though.”

“Well, probably because he has to do damage control before word gets out that he stuck his tongue in some other dude’s mouth.”

“Why damage control?”

“He’s out to me, Peter, and Ned, but he didn’t really want to come out officially just yet. I think he’s still figuring things out, and that’s why he made out with that guy.”

Connor shrugged again, then changed the topic.

Miles came over after that and helped us finish the pizza, we hung out and played some board games for a while, then we decided to go clubbing, to cheer ourselves up. Connor was upset about Harry, Miles was upset because Cindy and Matty hooked up, and I was kinda pissed at Peter for asking to get back together without telling me why he broke up with me in the first place. So, we split up, going back to our own places to get ready, and when we met up again, it was at Miles’ to catch a cab.

Connor had this cute casual thing going on. He was wearing a blue and white t-shirt and his hair was all messy and curly. Miles had a button-down shirt on, one side tucked into his jeans, one side untucked.

I’d half-straightened my hair, then thrown on leggings and a shirt that was way too tight and way too low-cut.

Miles gave me that disapproving-older-brother look, but didn’t say anything.

When we got into the club (thanks to some fake IDs Miles had managed to get us in sophomore year), Connor and I made a beeline for the bar. I couldn’t even tell you how many shots I pounded back. I couldn’t tell you how many Connor had, either, but it was enough that he somehow snaked away and ended up hitting on some other guy near the bar. They seemed to flirt back and forth, and then Connor grabbed his hand and dragged him off.

Flash appeared out of the crowd, looking confused. I opened my mouth to say something to him, but he disappeared again.

Huh. What were the chances that Flash just happened to show up to the same club?

Maybe I was drunk enough that I was seeing things. I turned to Miles.

“Did you- is that- did you just see Flash?”

“Yep. Definitely him. Why is my drink taking so long?”

“Oh, here, I got you.”

I leaned over the counter of the bar and waved at the bartender. He flashed me a too-white smile as he headed over.

“Hi, my friend here ordered his drink a while ago, and he was just wondering how long it’s gonna take.”

I subtly pulled the hem of my shirt down under the counter, exposing more cleavage.

“What did you order, sir?”

“Four tequila shots,” Miles said. The bartender flashed the same smile, poured the shots, and pushed them towards Miles.

“There you go, bud.”

I turned away, looking around for Connor. He still hadn’t reappeared.

When I turned back around, Miles was downing his third shot. I waited for him to finish the fourth one, then asked, “Do you know where Connor went?”

Miles shook his head.

“I’ll ask Flash,” I slurred, leaning against the counter and pulling out my phone. “He looked like he followed them.”

“Why would Flash be helpful?” Miles asked, colour showing on his dark cheeks as the alcohol kicked in.

My texting was godawful, thanks to my low alcohol tolerance. But Flash was sober enough that he managed to decipher my texts.

The first thing I noticed was that he called me Basket Case. Flash was kind of a nickname generator, but I didn’t expect to be stuck with Basket Case.

The second thing I noticed was that when he mentioned that he was texting Harry, he referred to him was Connor’s boyfriend, and then Richie Rich. It took me a moment to realize he meant Harry.

I got caught up on the basket case thing, maybe because I felt like I was spiralling. I definitely felt like a basket case lately. I’d been crying and distant and not quite myself. Connor was right, I wasn’t normally an “it’s just sex” type of person, but then I’d gone and fucked Peter like it was nothing.

Flash assured me that I only used to be a basket case, back in sophomore year where I buried my nose in a book to avoid actually talking to people. I assured him that I was worse now than I was then.

Then something weird happened. Flash sounded…concerned. Caring, even. And I was drunk enough that I didn’t think about the fact that he’d spread my texts online or that he was generally spiteful and mean. And I told him about Brandon. In more detail than I’d told Miles or Connor, maybe because I was so drunk. Flash seemed genuinely worried about me. He found me at the bar, afterwards, to make sure I was okay. I was just standing there  with Miles, trying not to let any emotions show.

“Hey, Thompson,” Miles greeted, his voice cold.

“Wow, what a welcoming committee. Is this how he gets all the girls?”

Great. Flash had turned his snark all the way up.

Harry showed up.

“Hey, Richie Rich, you made it!”

“Yeah, I’m here, happy?”

“You should definitely go get your boyfriend.”

Miles frowned. “Boyfriend?”

Harry groaned. “I don’t have a fucking boyfriend, Flash. God, can I just get some shots and be done with this?”

I waved the bartender down again, and ordered Harry some shots. The bartender smiled as he poured Harry six vodka shots.

“Jones, you’re crazy, I’m not doing six shots at once.”

“Then I’ll take one, but you’re doing the rest.”

“Fine. Deal.”

I picked up one shot, we clinked, then poured the shots down our throats.

“Frozone, can you come drag Connor out of that bathroom with me, since his boyfriend doesn’t want to?”

“Not his boyfriend, fuckface.”

At the same time, Miles looked at me, rolling his eyes, and mouthed, “Frozone.” I mean, as much as I disliked Flash, that was a good nickname.

“Whatever you say, Richie Rich.” Flash gave him the fakest smile I had ever seen as he dragged Miles away.

Harry was upset enough that he did the other four shots in a few seconds, then closed his eyes for a second. “Oh, that was a bad idea.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

“God, how fucked are we?”

“Very fucked.”

It was weird. I’d been friends with Harry for years, yet I’d never really looked at his face. Not through beer goggles, or vodka goggles, anyways. But he was objectively hot. Sharp features, good body. Suddenly, he was very tempting.

“What?” he asked.

I frowned a little. “Nothing, just that- I- I’m very drunk.”

“Yeah, no shit, Jones.”

“Hey, how bad would it be if I told you that I think you’re ridiculously hot?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Um, bad, I think.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But you’re pretty ridiculously hot yourself, Jones, so I don’t know.”

I’m pretty sure we talked more. At least, I hope we did.

But the next thing I remember is my legs wrapped around his waist as we kissed, him slowly carrying me out of the club towards his dad’s limo.

And then I remember unbuttoning his shirt in the limo on the way to his place, leaving hickeys on his neck and chest.

I remember us, naked in his bed.

Harry was safe, too. I trusted him. And it was easy, because I didn’t feel anything for him.

All I felt was control over myself, over my body. Ownership over my body.

At least while we were having sex. I don’t know when the feeling faded, maybe around the time I fell asleep, or when being drunk turned to being hungover. I just knew that I had to chase that feeling.

**October 14 th **

I got up and went home before Harry woke up, so I could get ready for my dad’s funeral.

I felt numb again. I wondered if his death would feel real once I stood up and gave a eulogy.

I put on a black dress, covered up my hickeys with concealer, then headed over to my dad’s family’s house.

Eli was sitting on the front steps in a suit when I showed up.

“Hey.”

“Hey, MJ. You look tired, you okay?”

I shrugged. “Are any of us?” I sat down next to him on the steps.

“Charlie and Mom are almost ready,” Eli said, fidgeting with his car keys.

I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“I know.”

“I keep feeling like I’m gonna wake up to texts from him, or he’s gonna call me and ask if I can come over for dinner with you guys.”

Eli hesitated, then said, “Why haven’t you come over since he died?”

I sat up straight and looked at him. “What?”

He wouldn’t look at me. “It just seemed like you didn’t want anything to do with us once he died.”

I frowned. “I thought you guys didn’t want me around.” Plus, there was the pregnancy scare, and Brandon, and then Peter and Harry-

“Of course we want you around. You’re my big sister.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You guys didn’t really understand what I was going through, because you knew he was dying, and so I was blindsided while you guys were prepared-”

Eli snorted. “Nothing could’ve prepared me for this. But losing my big sister with it-”

“Oh, come on, you’re not losing me. I just- I needed some time.”

Eli looked at me, squinting a little. “Did something happen?”

I hesitated. “I-I guess.”

“MJ, spill.”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing big.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“No, but I don’t want to talk about any of it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Charlie walked out the front door.

“Hi, MJ.” Even her voice sounded dull and lifeless. When I looked up at her, her skin looked colourless.

As much as I hated seeing my little sister like this, it was kind of comforting to know she was having a hard time with this, too. She didn’t seem as well adjusted as Eli.

I patted the spot next to me, and she came and sat down.

“Mom said she’ll be out in a minute.”

Eli nodded. Charlie leaned into me, so I put an arm around her.

“We missed you,” Charlie whispered, her voice sounding like it was on the verge of breaking.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

We were silent until my step-mom came outside.

“Alright, let’s go. Eli, you’re driving, right?”

He nodded.

She sat shotgun, so Charlie and I took the backseat. I squeezed her hand the whole way to the funeral home.

My phone started to buzz in my purse, so I managed to pull it out with one hand and open my messages.

It was Peter, asking about what had happened last night.

I gave him a short and sweet explanation, then put my phone away again.

The funeral was nice, as far as funerals go. I learned a bit about my dad, through co-worker’s eulogies and such.

Peter never showed, despite promising to at the party.

That definitely stung.

I gave a short eulogy, barely getting through it without breaking down in tears.

After the funeral, I texted Harry, and we decided to keep hooking up. After we set some ground rules, I asked if I could come over and have a few drinks with him.

“MJ, I’m driving you home, right?” Eli asked, spooking me. I quickly locked my phone.

“No, that’s alright. I’m heading over to a friend’s place, so I can just take a cab.”

“Are you sure? If you give me an address, I can just drive you there.”

I shook my head. “His place is in the opposite direction of your place. I’ll text you later, though, okay?”

“Okay.”

He gave me a hug, then went and caught up with Charlie and their mom, and headed home.

I hailed down a taxi, gave the driver Harry’s address, and was there in forty minutes.

The first thing he said when he opened the door was, “Holy shit, are you okay?”

I laughed, stepping in through the threshold. “Shit, dude, do I look that bad?”

“You just- you look upset.”

“I did just come from my dad’s funeral.”

“Fair point. You definitely weren’t kidding when you said you needed a drink.”

“Yeah.”

He led me up to his room, where he had a stash of vodka. We ended up sitting on his bedroom floor, drinking out of the bottle.

“Did you say anything?”

“What?”

“At the funeral. A eulogy.”

“Oh. Yeah. It was really short, though, since I didn’t really know him that well.”

I took another swig of vodka, then handed the bottle back to Harry.

“I’m sorry, MJ.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s okay, it’s not your fault or anything.” I could feel the alcohol hitting me as I spoke.

He gulped down some more vodka, then put the bottle on his desk and leaned over to kiss me. It was kind of awkward, because of the way we were sitting. All I could think was that his lips tasted like the vodka, which shouldn’t have surprised me at all, but I guess if you get a girl drunk enough, anything will surprise her.

I grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him towards me, but threw us both off balance. We fell over, him on top of me. I tugged at the hem of his shirt, so he stopped kissing me long enough for me to pull the shirt off of him.

“Do you really wanna have sex on the floor?” Harry asked.

I giggled. “No, not really.”

He rolled off of me, then helped me up. I didn’t realize until I was on my feet exactly how drunk I was. I swayed, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to see the room spin, then sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed.

I opened my eyes as Harry leaned in, kissing my neck and pushing me back on the bed, crawling on top of me as he did. He was incredibly well-coordinated, considering all the alcohol that was in his system. He was sucking on the skin under my ears, undoubtedly leaving a hickey. I caught myself moaning as he did.

If Peter or Connor ever found out that we weren’t stopping at one night, we were royally fucked.

But for now, I might as well get fucked in the fun way.

**October 17 th **

I woke up in Harry’s bed, the alarm on my phone going off next to me. I groaned, hitting snooze.

Harry turned over. “What time is it?”

“We don’t have to be up for another hour.”

Harry looked at his phone. “Yeah, but don’t you have to head back to your place to get your stuff for class?”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Come on, get up.”

“Harry, no, let me sleep-”

“MJ, come on, I’ll make you coffee.” He tried to pull me up to a sitting position, but I pushed him off and laid back down.

“But I’m sore, and tired. That’s on you, by the way.”

“Sorry.” I looked at him, and he was smirking.

“Oh, fuck off, you’re not sorry at all.”

“It was fun!”

I picked up my pillow and hit him with it. He laughed.

“Fine, if you wanna be late…”

I groaned. “I don’t like that you know how to get to me.”

He got out of bed and tossed me a shirt from his closet. “Coffee offer is still on the table.”

I glared at him. “Damn you, Osborn.”

He just winked, then left the room.

I put on the shirt he through at me, which, thankfully, was long enough to cover my ass, then went downstairs into the kitchen.

Harry somehow convinced me to make him pancakes while he made coffee, so we were chatting while making breakfast. Then his dad came downstairs, and the mood immediately dropped. When I looked at Harry, he had clearly put up some walls. I felt my whole body tense.

“Morning, kids. MJ, you look _great_ today.”

I turned and glanced at him, and caught his eyes lingering on my ass.

My breath hitched in my throat. My brain decided to show me a slideshow of every time Brandon had stared at my butt, and felt my heartrate go up.

I stopped mixing batter and went around the kitchen island to the fridge, mostly just to put the island between Mr. Osborn and I.

“You guys going to school today?”

“Yeah,” Harry said curtly.

His dad was still staring at my ass. “MJ, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Might have something to do with the fact that this is my first year at Midtown,” Harry muttered.

Or it might have something to do with the fact that he kidnapped our friend, then went to jail for a bit, and now all of us are ridiculously uncomfortable around him because Cindy is still incredibly traumatized and we don’t exactly know what he’s capable of.

“Yeah, I guess I haven’t been over here very much.” As if Harry and I haven’t been hooking up almost every day since Saturday.

He came around the island to talk to me, so I grabbed some blueberries off the counter and went back around to the mixing bowl. Harry gave me a weird look, but didn’t say anything.

“You should come around more often, especially since you and Harry are so…close.”

I didn’t like the way he said that. It sent shivers up my spine.

Harry seemed to catch on. “Don’t you have an early meeting today?” He pointed at a schedule on the fridge. I noticed that only his dad’s events were on there, and none of Harry’s.

“Right. I’ll see you kids later.”

He ruffled Harry’s hair on the way out of the kitchen, giving me a wink before he left.

Before Harry could say anything, I asked him where the pans were.

“Uh, here, I got it.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a pan, as I went to the fridge to grab some butter. I managed to remember which drawer they kept spatulas in, and then I made us a stack of pancakes.

We took our time, eating at the table in comfortable silence.

“Um, MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at the time.”

I checked my phone. “Oh, shit.”

I shoved the last of my pancakes in my mouth, put the dishes in the dishwasher, then booted upstairs to throw on my pants, grab the rest of my shit. I ran back downstairs and out the door.

“See you at school, Osborn!”

Harry was laughing from the kitchen. “Bye, Jones.”

I ended up leaving Harry’s shirt in my locker for him to grab whenever he got the chance, since I hadn’t taken it off at his place. Which, unfortunately, meant that Miles saw Harry pulling it out of my locker, and texted me while I was in class.

I told him that Harry and I were hooking up, and then admitted that I knew it’d end badly if Peter or Connor found out, but that for the time being, it was helping me cope.

I needed the endorphins.

Later that day, I had this weird…crisis. I suddenly felt trapped, and just felt the need to move. All I wanted to do was just get in my car and drive.

I texted Miles to ask him for advice, maybe hoping he’d talk me down, but he told me to just do it.

I did, however, make him promise not to tell anybody. The last thing I needed was for there to be any attention on me. I wanted to turn off my phone and drive and forget about everything that was upsetting me or stressing me.

I went back to Harry’s to watch movies. It was nice. We made a pillow fort, and popcorn, and sat in the dark, watching _A Good Day to Die Hard_.

Eventually, he paused the movie and turned to me.

“Okay, tell me what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you’re sitting on something.”

I shrugged. “I’m, um, I’m gonna skip town after this movie.”

Harry blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I kinda just need to get away from everything, you know?”

Harry frowned. “Are you sure it’s a good idea? Just like, leaving on your own?”

I snorted. “No. But I feel like I’m suffocating here, you know? And I need some quality me time.”

He definitely didn’t seem happy about it, but he didn’t try to argue with me. “Okay. Just, like, text me while you’re gone, okay? So I know you’re not dead in a ditch in Nebraska.”

“Yeah, of course. Can you do me one favour, though?”

“Sure, Jones.”

“Don’t tell anybody. I just wanna go off the grid and not have to explain myself or talk to anybody or anything. I just wanna be completely alone.”

Harry hesitated. “You know some of our friends are gonna worry their asses off about you, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, MJ, last Wednesday when you went off the grid for a few hours everyone flipped their shit. You think they won’t do the same if you go missing for days? How long do you plan on being out of town, anyways?”

I hesitated. “I haven’t really thought that far in advance.”

“MJ!”

“I know. Please, just promise me. It’ll make things easier for me.”

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll pretend we never had this conversation.”

I spit on my hand and held it out. He rolled his eyes, but spit on his hand and shook mine.

“Why can’t we just do pinky promises?”

“This feels a little more binding, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not a goddamn blood oath, Jones, it’s an unnecessarily wet handshake.”

I laughed. “As if we haven’t done worse together.”

“Touché.”

We finished the movie, and then I hit the road. I drove all the way to Ocean City, New Jersey, before I found a cheap hotel for the night. I texted Miles and Harry to let them know I was safe for the night, then went to bed.

I felt free. There was no pressure, no dread of the next day. Just me, my car, and ocean air.

* * *

**October 18 th**

Michelle didn’t show up to school.

I wanted to text her, to ask if she was sick or something, but she hadn’t given me a second glance since she left my house Saturday morning.

Still, as the day went on, and she didn’t show up, I started to worry. Maybe she was just skipping, or maybe she had a cold or something. But this creeping thought kept coming back, that somebody had targeted her because of me.

**October 19 th **

She didn’t show up again. I was starting to feel nauseous about the whole thing.

As much as Miles intimidated me, I got up the nerve to go up to him at his locker.

“Hey, Miles.”

His demeanor was a lot less scary than it had been right after the breakup. He didn’t look at me when he spoke, though. “Hey, Peter.”

“I, um, do you mind if I ask you something?”

He was maybe four inches taller than me, but today that felt like a foot and a half. Maybe I was only antsy because the last time we’d talked in a hallway, it ended in his knuckles hitting my face.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Do you- do you know why Michelle isn’t coming to school?”

Miles shrugged. “She doesn’t tell me everything.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, thank you.”

“Anytime, man.”

I walked off down the hall, making my way to my locker. When I got there, Ned was leaning against the locker next to mine, smiling at his phone. He was probably texting Jess.

“Hey.”

He looked up at me, then put his phone away.

“You okay, Peter?”

“What? Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You look tired.”

“I-I just didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

Ned nodded knowingly. “It’s because MJ’s MIA, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Dude, she’s probably just hanging out with her dad’s family or something. She’s had a rough month.”

I sighed. “Is it bad that I’m still mad at Harry for sleeping with her? I just- part of me wants to punch him every time I see him now.”

“Come on, Harry’s one of your closest friends. He was drunk.”

“I know, but still. He knows exactly how I feel about MJ- Michelle.”

“Peter, just come hang out with me tonight. We can play some video games or-or we could play ping pong! I’ll find the table. That’ll help you get some aggression out. Then you can come to guy’s night tomorrow and it won’t be weird.” There was a moment of silence. “It’ll still be weird,” Ned admitted, “but it’ll be less weird.”

I gave in. “Fine, okay, I’ll meet you after school.”

Ned smiled. “See? Everything’s fine.”

Everything was not fine. What if Michelle was hurt? What if it was because of me? How would I live with myself?

**October 20 th **

I woke up sick as a dog. I was coughing, feverish, nauseous.

May was at work all day, working overtime, so when I spent an hour hugging a toilet bowl, I felt too guilty to call her.

This was too familiar. The last time I’d been this sick, I’d been bitten by a radioactive spider. This felt the same. It was the same sinking feeling, the same nausea and fever, the same impending sense of doom.

Maybe there was a timer on this whole Spider-Man thing. Maybe I hadn’t stressed myself into sickness, maybe I’d triggered some kind of self-destruct button. Maybe I’d just die.

Eventually, I stopped throwing up, and had to shower just to feel human again.

Guy’s night ended up being at Ned’s. Harry brought food, I brought all of my sickness and anxiety, and Ned was just his normal, weirdly optimistic self.

“You still haven’t heard from her?” Ned asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. “Radio silence.”

Something about that seemed just a little bit off. It was his voice, or the weird twitch of his eyebrow, or the way his hand seemed to be itching to reach for his phone, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

I was probably just paranoid.

**October 21 st **

I was getting scared. It wasn’t like Michelle to disappear for so long. Radio silence, especially from her, was deafening.

I hated not knowing where she was, how she was, any of it. But I wasn’t her boyfriend, and that was my fault. It was my fault she was so angry with me.

I found myself spraying her perfume on my blankets before bed, just to ease my worries a little.

**October 22 nd **

I didn’t know how I was going to get through the day. I’d started the day by throwing up, then I couldn’t keep breakfast down, and then I was feverish and nauseous and dizzy all day.

But school doesn’t stop for sick days, and I couldn’t let my grades drop if I wanted Aunt May to be so lenient about the Spider-Man thing.

That night, I got a notification that Michelle had posted on her Instagram.

For the first time in days, I could breathe. I opened the notification, and saw pictures from Ocean City, New Jersey.

She’d been on a road trip. She ghosted everyone and went on a road trip.

I hadn’t gotten her hurt.

**October 23 rd **

“Michelle!”

She turned, hair flipping over her shoulder when she did. She stopped where she was in the hallway, so I jogged to catch up.

“Can I- can I talk to you? Just the two of us?”

Michelle looked at Miles, waving him off. “Sure. Let’s, uh, find somewhere a little less busy.”

She led me into the library, into a secluded corner at the back.

“Are you okay, Parker? You look-”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sick.”

She looked concerned, but I could feel her closing me out. Her arms were crossed, she shifted her weight backwards, leaning on leg more than the other, and her eyes were…cold. It wasn’t the same warm, welcoming MJ I used to know. It wasn’t the girl who’d hold my hand in the car, or rest her head on my shoulder, or wake up next to me. This was Michelle. Cold, distant Michelle, who’d disappear for days at a time and give us all the cold shoulder.

“Where- why did you- I’m just trying to wrap my head around everything,” I rambled. “You- I just don’t understand. Did you just…leave?”

“Yeah.”

“So you-you-you just skip town for days on end and don’t think to tell anybody where you are?”

“I told a couple people.” Her answers were short, and her voice was too even. There was no emotion. She had completely shut me out. It annoyed me.

“I- do you know how freaked out I was? You just- you disappeared! Nobody had heard anything from you!”

“That was kind of the point, Parker. I wanted to be alone.”

“Then spend a night in watching Netflix! Don’t skip town and-and make everyone worry sick and-”

“I’m sorry, if you were so worried, why didn’t you text me or anything? You didn't even come to my dad's funeral, Peter. Even Flash's parents were there, but you weren't.” she asked, her demeanor getting even colder. Her voice sounded almost sharp.

“You hate me!” I shouted.

She stared at me for a few seconds, then glanced down and shifted her weight. “I don’t hate you, Peter.”

“You barely look at me, you refuse to talk to me, you slept with Harry-”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You- it felt like you slept with him to get back at me.”

She stared at me again, but this time there were fewer walls up. It wasn’t cold and distant, it was up close, and I’d hurt her. “I wouldn’t- God, Peter, I’d never do that to get back at you. I was drunk and sad and I needed to feel…less empty, I guess.”

There were a few moments of silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, uncrossing her arms. “I’m sorry I stressed you out so much.”

“It’s fine, Michelle.”

“MJ.” I looked up, and she was almost smiling. “My name’s MJ.”

I couldn’t help but grin.

“God, come here, you nerd.”

She stepped towards me and hugged me, tight.

I almost cried. I’d spent days worried to death, and now she was here, safe, in my arms.

When she pulled away, she laughed a little, blinking. “Um, we should get to class. We’re already late.”

“Do you wanna just skip?” I asked.

She gave me a weird look. “You came to school on the verge of death, but you’re willing to skip class because you’re, what, two minutes late?”

I shrugged. “I guess I just needed a dose of MJ.”

She laughed. “Alright. Let’s go get pasta or something.”

Lunch with her was nice. We were laughing and joking around. It was easy, like before we’d dated. At some point, I suggested that she join Harry and Ned and I for guy’s night on Saturday. I think my logic was along the

We didn’t go to La Marinara, though. I didn’t have the heart for that just yet.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs for this chapter are 137-146  
> Hiya kids, so a lil warning here. This chapter is a lot less focused on sexual assault, so don't worry about that. HOWEVER near the end there's some drug references and it's super important to the plot but idk it could be triggering??? I figured better safe than sorry lol anyways enjoy

**October 26 th**

Harry was hosting a Halloween-themed movie night at his place, so a bunch of us spent the evening at his place. It was the whole Midtown squad. Betty, Ned, Jessie, Liz, Miles, Cindy, Matty, Ellie, Flash, and Peter. And, obviously, Harry and I.

Harry asked me to go to the study to pick out a movie, because apparently that’s where rich people keep their DVDs.

The study was huge. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with books. I ended up just staring at the shelves for a few minutes, mesmerized, completely forgetting what I was here to do.

My phone buzzed with a “hurry up” text from Harry, snapping me out of my trance. I grabbed _Hocus Pocus_ , _The Babadook_ , and _Psycho_. I went back into the living room, popped _Hocus Pocus_ into the DVD player, and sat down between Harry and Peter.

Harry and I were whispering dirty jokes to each other during the movies. You know, stuff like “title of your sex tape” or “that’s what she said” or “oh, you can make me scream way more than the Babadook can.” Casual friend stuff.

Peter nudged me during The Babadook, and whispered, “So, you and Harry are that close now? Whispering in each other’s ears all night?”

I frowned. “What? We’re just joking around.”

He got up and sat down next to Cindy. She instantly leaned into his side, and they were just short of cuddling on the couch.

Huh. So, they’d gotten closer than I thought. I didn’t realize it was that easy for Peter to move on.

I whispered into Harry’s ear, “Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

He smirked. “Sure, Jones.”

We kept whispering dirty jokes to each other through to the end of the movie night, and then I helped clean up and stuff as everyone was heading out. I saw Peter head out with Ned and Jess, and almost immediately I got a text from him, asking if I wanted a ride home. I told him I was helping Harry clean up, and to have fun third-wheeling.

God, it was nice that things weren’t so tense between us anymore. I missed teasing him and joking with him and things being easy.

Miles stayed behind, too, to help clean up a bit.

“Hey, MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that whole idea we had to start a band?”

I hesitated. “Yeah.”

“Well, Ellie plays drums. And Connor plays bass guitar, right?”

I nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

I grinned. “Alright, let’s do it.”

I texted Connor, and he was in, so we made a group chat for it.

“We’ll figure out times to practice and stuff some other time,” Miles said, shrugging it off.

I smiled. “I’m excited.”

“Me too. I gotta go, though. Text me when you get home safe,” he said. He gave me a hug, said goodbye to Harry, then left.

The second the front door shut behind him, Harry came up behind me, lifted me onto a counter top, and started kissing me.

From there, it escalated quite quickly. One moment we were in the kitchen, making out, hands tangled in each other’s hair, and then next, he was carrying me up the stairs to his bedroom, my shirt haphazardly tucked into his back pocket.

**October 27 th **

Waking up next to Harry was…definitely different from waking up with Peter. The major difference was that we never cuddled or anything after sex, so we woke up with a vast expanse of sheets between us every time. The other major thing I noticed was that Harry didn’t get that groggy moment of where-am-I-what-am-I-what-year-is-it. He’d just…wake up. He’d occasionally be tired and reluctant to get out of bed, but he was much more of a morning person than I was.

Ah, the things you learn about your friends when you’re having casual sex with them.

Anyways, so when I woke up, it was to Harry hitting me with a pillow, trying to get me out of bed so I’d make him pancakes.

“Fine, geez, I’m up,” I groaned, grabbing the pillow out of his hand and getting in a good smack over the head with it. He laughed, fixing his hair.

“Thanks, MJ.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off.”

I got up and got dressed, then let him pull me downstairs so I could make him breakfast. In return, as per usual, he made coffee.

“Do you want me to drive you home, so you can change and stuff before guy’s night tonight?”

Initially, I was going to say that it was fine, I didn’t need a ride home, but then I caught my reflection in the metal bowl I was mixing the pancake batter in. My hair was frizzy and greasy, and I definitely needed to go through my full skincare regimen.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

We ate breakfast together, then he drove me home.

“Text me when you’re on your way back to my place or if you want a ride or anything,” Harry said as I unbuckled.

“Yeah, of course. Am I staying over again?” I asked.

“Sounds good to me.” He winked, to which I rolled my eyes.

“See you later, dude.” I got out of the car and closed the door behind me. He waited until I got into my building before he drove off.

I went up to my apartment, showered, went through my skincare routine, and got dressed. Then took Murphy for a walk, refilled his food and water, then texted Harry and drove back to his place.

“I’m staying here again tonight, right?” I asked when I got there.

“Yeah, if you want to.”

I pulled my shirt aside so he could see the lace on my bra. “Just so you have something to look forward to,” I said with a wink.

“God, I hate you.”

We hung out, watched some TV and baked some cookies, until Peter and Ned showed up in the evening.

“We’re taking your car?” I asked Peter. He nodded. “Cool. I’m calling shotgun.”

“Hey!” Ned protested.

“I’ll trade you a cookie for shotgun.”

I could see the gears turning in Ned’s brain. “Yeah, I’ll take it.”

Harry grabbed one of the kitchen counter on his way to the front door. “Here. I’m all good to go.”

I shook my purse, jingling all my change. “Me too.”

We headed out to Peter’s car and piled in. Peter handed me the aux cord, which Harry protested.

“Pass the aux, dude.”

“You’ll play, like, white boy rap,” I teased, hitting shuffle on my car playlist. “At least I’ll hype us up.”

“Eminem isn’t white boy rap.”

Ned sucked air through his teeth. “That is peak white boy rap.”

“Yeah, I’m with Ned on that one,” Peter said.

I turned and stuck my tongue out at Harry.

“Oh, grow up.”

“You first.”

I turned back around, grinning.

We got to the arcade and dumped all our change into the token machines. I’d managed to find something like twelve dollars in quarters, so I had a ton of tokens.

Peter and I played a few rounds of _Dance Dance Revolution_ , because any good arcade night starts with _Dance Dance Revolution_. By the end of it, we were both panting like dogs, but we’d had a good time.

“Air hockey,” Peter huffed. “The table’s free.”

I laughed breathlessly. “Let’s do it.”

We went over to the air hockey table and put in our tokens.

“Best two out of three?” he asked.

“Sure.”

We started playing and I grinned as he got more and more frustrated with every goal I made. The games went to seven points. When we were at 4-0, he dropped his plastic paddle, running his hands through his hair.

“How are you so good at this? Did you make a deal with the devil?”

I shrugged. “I grew up playing Miles, like, every weekend.”

Peter groaned. “Okay, so I’m only up against years of experience, that’s fine.” He picked up his paddle again, adorably determined. “Let’s do this.”

He did manage to score a goal against me, and immediately dropped his paddle, walking around in a circle like he was a jock after scoring a touchdown or something.

“Congrats, you’re only three points behind,” I quipped smugly.

“Oh, shove it, Jones.”

“Shove it? Where, exactly?” I walked around to the side of the table, arms crossed.

To his credit, Peter didn’t step down. He stepped closer to me, leaving a foot or two between us. “You’re imaginative.”

“No, in this case I’m gonna need a little more instruction.” I caught myself smirking as I took another step forward. “Maybe even a demonstration.”

We were toe-to-toe now, our faces a few inches apart. The smirk melted off my face.

“I’m, uh, I’m sure you’d love that.” His voice lacked any confidence he’d had a few moments before.

Harry walked past us, saying, “Are you guys gonna stare longingly into each other’s eyes all night or…?”

I tore my eyes away from Peter to flip him off, and then went back to my side of the table.

“I hope you’re more than a one trick pony, Parker,” I teased, hoping to ease some of the tension.

“You know I am.”

I looked up, and caught him looking at me like he missed me.

“Come on, dude, play me.”

We started playing again. He managed to get another goal in before I beat him brutally. We played another game, which he lost, 7-5.

“You went easy on me, didn’t you?” he asked.

“What? No! I would never- okay, yeah, a little.”

He smiled, holding out his hand. “Good game, Jones.”

“Likewise, Parker.”

I shook his hand.

Ned came up to us. “MJ, do you mind if I steal Peter for a round on the air hockey table?”

“Title of your sex tape. But sure, be my guest.”

“Actually,” Peter said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom first. But I’ll take you up on air hockey when I get back, Ned.”

They did their weird handshake, and Peter disappeared to find a bathroom.

“Jones! Let’s do skeeball!” Harry called.

I headed over to the skeeball machines, and Harry and I put in our tokens.

“Hold on, we should make things interesting,” Harry said.

I crossed my arms. “What did you have in mind?”

“Whoever loses gives the other head.”

I snorted. “I’ll take that action.”

Harry smacked my ass, by way of sealing the deal. Behind us, I heard Ned shriek.

Oh, shit.

“What the hell was that?” Ned’s voice was high-pitched and loud. I winced.

“Uh, just, y’know, friendly butt-smacking,” Harry stammered, looking at me for support. I nodded.

“Yeah, just-just some friendly-”

“THAT WAS NOT FRIENDLY!”

“Shh, okay, calm down, Ned, it’s just-”

“We should just tell him,” Harry interrupted. I stared at him.

“What? No! He and Peter tell each other everything!”

“I am right here. And I’m very traumatized, thank you very much.”

“Oh, sit down, you’re not all that innocent. Jessie told me you liked being-”

Ned slapped a hand over my mouth. Harry sighed.

“MJ and I are still sleeping together.”

“WHAT!” In his shock, Ned pulled his hand away.

“Harry!”

“But you can’t tell Peter under any circumstances.”

Ned stared at him with wide eyes. “You told Peter it was a one-time thing!”

“I lied! I don’t feel good about it-”

“Debatable,” I mumbled.

“-but that doesn’t change the fact that you can’t tell Peter anything about this.”

Ned looked like he was about to explode. “I can’t- but Peter- and you said-”

I interjected. “Look, Ned, you know that I suck at coping with things. Sex is a little healthier than drinking myself into a coma every other night. And Harry-”

“I’m still figuring things out. Um, sexuality-wise.”

Ned nodded.

“So,” I continued, “it’s just a little less painful for everybody if this stays between us.”

Ned opened his mouth to say something, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I won’t tell Peter.”

“Thank you-”

“Hey!”

I turned to see Peter coming back into the arcade.

“Ned, you ready to play?”

“Uh, yeah, absolutely.”

“You good, man?”

Ned glanced back at Harry and I. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Harry and I turned and went back to our skeeball machines.

“Ready, Jones?”

“I’m more concerned about whether or not you’re ready, Osborn. Do you need to stretch first, maybe do a quick warm-up?”

Harry rolled his eyes, and threw his first ball.

I managed to beat him by about a hundred point. I gave him a smug smirk when he realized I’d beat him.

“Maybe you should do a jaw warm-up,” I teased, earning me a (relatively gentle) punch to the arm.

“Yeah, whatever, Jones.”

We all played a few more games before we left. Peter and I played one of those basketball games. I had a good time hip-bumping him as we played side-by-side, just to throw him off a little. At some point, I turned to see Ned on the _Dance Dance Revolution_ machine, rocking back and forth as the _Cha Cha Slide_ played loudly.

“You okay there, Nedward?”

“You and Harry traumatized me.”

I laughed, then reached out a hand to help him up. He sighed, taking my hand.

“Hey, Ned, you okay?”

Ned glanced between me and Peter.

“Oh, he and Jessie are, um-”

“We’re fighting about _The Goonies_ again,” Ned said, speaking too fast.

“Really? I thought that was, like, once, in August.”

I gave Ned a pointed look, praying silently he could think of something that wasn’t completely stupid.

“Yeah, I guess we just didn’t resolve it properly.”

Peter seemed to buy it. “Do you wanna talk about it.”

“No.” He said that too fast, too. “I’m just- I’ll be fine.”

Peter looked a little worried. “Here, let’s go play one more game before we leave.”

He dragged Ned off to play Pacman or something. Harry came up to me.

“Wasn’t the smoothest, but he definitely didn’t suspect anything.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the overwhelming positive reinforcement, Osborn.”

“Hey, if you want positive reinforcement, then you should be getting on your knees,” he said with a wink.

“If I recall correctly, I won our bet, so that won’t be happening tonight.”

Harry smacked my arm. “I’m gonna go cash in my tickets.”

“Oooh, I forgot about that, I’ll come with you.”

We went to the ticket counter, got our little receipts, then went to the prize counter. I got a bunch of peppermint patties with mine, plus a little strawberry keychain. I needed something cute for my car keys, anyways. Harry was particularly indecisive, and the longer he stared at the prizes, the more unsure of himself he seemed.

“Do you think- do you think I should get something for Connor?” His cheeks were a little rosy.

“I’m sure Connor would appreciate it,” I told him.

Harry smiled, just a little bit. It was nice to see him actually falling for someone. It was kinda cute.

“The shark or the tiger?” He looked legitimately nervous.

“The tiger. It looks softer.”

He pressed his lips together, trying not to smile, then cashed in his tickets for the stuffed tiger.

“Maybe I’ll save it for Christmas. One thing off my list.”

I grinned. “Cute.”

“Shut up, Jones.”

“Make me.”

He held the tiger under his arm, trying to stop himself from smiling.  Peter and Ned finished their last game, got some prizes, and we all headed out to Peter’s car.

“Shotgun!” Ned shouted, as we got out the doors of the arcade.

Harry and I looked at each other with the same _I guess we gotta give it to him_ look.

We piled into Peter’s car, and then Peter dropped us off at Harry’s.

Harry got out of the car and immediately went inside. I got out and went to Peter’s side, and knocked on the window. He rolled it down, and I put my arms on the door and leaned closer.

“Thanks for asking me to come with you guys tonight.”

Peter smiled. “Of course, MJ. You’re basically just one of the guys.”

Ouch. Okay.

I tried not to let the sting in my chest show on my face. “Anyways, um, I’m glad we’re-we’re friends and back to normal and everything. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I agree. It’s, um, good to have you back.”

I forced myself to smile. “I’ll let you guys go. Drive safe.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice a little softer.

I waved at Ned, then stood back, giving them both one last smile before Peter rolled up the window and hit the gas.

_You’re basically just one of the guys._

Not a fun thing to hear from someone you’re still in love with, but okay. I’d taken worse hits in the last month, I’d be fine.

I went inside and dropped my stuff on the kitchen counter, then stared at Harry.

“Pay up, dude.”

**October 29 th **

I was laying in bed, trying to fall asleep, when my phone started buzzing.

I had three missed calls from Harry. I texted him back.

Me: harry it is half past midnight I’m in bed why are you calling me

Harry: come ovvvverrrrrr

I groaned. Why were teenage boys so constantly horny?

Me: are you serious

Harry: very

Me: Dude I am in bed

Me: Contacts are out

I thought about how much better I’d feel if I did go over. Brandon had stayed over last night, so I started my morning by having to talk to him. I felt gross and unsettled. I knew from experience that sex would offset that a little bit. But I was still exhausted, and I would’ve preferred to just stay in bed.

Me: On a scale of 1-10 how badly do you want me to come over

Harry: 15

Welp. That made my decision for me. I was tired and lazy, but good sex was good sex.

Me: Jesus Christ

Me: I’ll be there in 10

Me: I’m gonna look like shit tho

Harry: nah you always look good b

Me: And suddenly I’ll be there in 5 ; )

Harry: ; ) ; ) ; )

I got up, grabbed my glasses and my keys, and drove to Harry’s.

He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder the second I showed up on his doorstep.

“Harry!”

“Dude, I told you. Fifteen. I’m not wasting time tonight.”

He carried me upstairs, dropped me on the bed, climbed on top of me, and started kissing me. He only took his mouth off of me to undress me, which was fine, but I was kinda cold from walking to his front door in my pajama shorts.

Luckily, sex is one of those things that gets you all hot and sweaty anyways. And I was right. The sex did make me feel better.

Afterwards, I went to the bathroom (because nobody likes UTIs), put one of Harry’s shirts on, and crawled into bed, laying on my side. I fell asleep pretty easily.

A couple hours later, I woke up to Harry’s hand gently shaking my shoulder.

“What do you want?” I groaned, refusing to open my eyes.

“You wanna go for a second round?”

“Sex?” I mumbled, still half-asleep.

The next thing I knew, he was pushing me onto my back, grabbing my wrists and pinning them onto the bed next to my head, and kissing me.

I panicked. It didn’t matter that this was Harry, or that I knew I could just tell him to stop. All I could think of was Brandon. Feeling his hands wrapped around my wrists hard enough to bruise, pressing me down so I couldn’t move.

I could move this time. I was sober and only half-asleep.

I reacted on pure instinct, kicking Harry off of me, and jumped out of bed.

“Ow, dude, what did- MJ, what are you doing? Did I do something wrong?”

My heart was pounding. My chest felt tight and my throat was all closed up and I couldn’t breathe. I changed back into my pjs and tossed Harry’s shirt at him, hitting him in the chest.

“MJ, slow down. Stop. What are you- just get back into bed, I won’t touch you.”

I couldn’t speak. I’d have to tell him why I was freaking out and I couldn’t do that because he’d never want to talk to me again. But I was also angry. I hadn’t said yes, and he’d just gotten on top of me and pinned me down and assumed I was consenting.

I grabbed my car keys off his dresser and started to leave.

“Dude, wait.” He got up and ran over to me, grabbing my wrist again to stop me.

It wasn’t Harry’s hand I felt. It wasn’t his slender fingers I felt, it was Brandon’s thicker ones. I could feel callouses, even though Harry didn’t have any. My heart pounded faster as I wrenched my wrist out of his grasp and elbowed him in the ribs. I heard him grunt in pain, but didn’t dare turn to look at him. I was terrified I’d see Brandon looking back at me.

“MJ-”

I booked it. I ran out of his room, down the hallway, and down the stairs, ignoring him as he ran behind me.

“MJ, I’m sorry, just tell me what I did-”

I ran out the front door, booked it to my car, unlocking it just in time to jump in and turn on the ignition. I locked my doors before Harry could catch up.

I drove all the way home, shaking and gripping the wheel, trying not to break down.

I felt exactly like I did that night with Brandon. Gross and dirty and violated. I wanted to crawl out of my body.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I couldn’t look at Harry, either. I was shaken for days after that. Angry and shaken. I didn’t think Harry would ever hurt me. I thought he was safe.

**October 31 st **

I didn’t really have a character in mind for my costume, but I did have some old leotards from when I did gymnastics as I kid, so I managed to tailor them a little with my mom’s sewing kid and add a little pizzazz. I borrowed a bright pink wig from Charlie, wrangled it into an updo, and then slapped that all together. Wasn’t sure who or what I was, but I looked cute, and that’s what matters when you’re going to a Halloween party.

Just like the day before, Harry tried to talk to me a couple times. Every time, my throat closed up more the longer he talked, and eventually I’d have to leave just so I could breathe.

At the Halloween party that night, I stuck with Miles. I didn’t tell him why I wasn’t talking to Harry, but he got the idea that I couldn’t be around him after Harry came up to us, holding a bottle of tequila.

“MJ, do you wanna do a couple shots?”

I couldn’t look at him.

I hated it. I hated that I was going to lose one of my best friends over something that felt so stupid. He was sorry, he didn’t want to hurt me. But every time I heard his voice, I remembered how it had sounded that night. _“You wanna go for a second round?”_

Miles saw me shrink away from him, saw my shoulders come forward and my eyes drop to the floor.

“I, um, don’t think she’s in the mood for that tonight,” Miles said, his voice kind but firm.

Harry hesitated, but walked away.

“What’s going on with you guys? Is your little _arrangement_ coming to a harsh end?”

“I-I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

I found myself rubbing my wrist. Miles’ eyes were lingering on my hands, too.

“Got it. Lemme know if he hurt you, okay? He’s only my friend until he-”

“It’s nothing, Miles, really. Can we just go find Jess? She said she was bringing vodka.”

Miles hesitated. “Sure.”

We snaked through the party to find Jess, and found her with Betty and Cindy. The five of us stood in a circle and took swigs from Jessie’s vodka bottle.

“This is nice. None of us hang out anymore,” Cindy said, her cheeks started to glow pink from the alcohol.

Betty snorted. “We do, you just don’t show.”

Cindy turned and glared at her. “What?”

Miles and I looked at each other. Oh, shit.

“Ever since this summer you’ve pushed all of us away,” Betty accused.

Cindy bristled. “You don’t know what happened, Betty.”

“Yeah, none of us do. You don’t tell us anything.”

I looked at Miles. His eyes were focused on Cindy, wide and unblinking. I put a hand on his arm and squeezed.

Cindy fumed, glaring at Betty.

“See? You can’t even deny it.” I decided I didn’t like Drunk Betty. Sober Betty was sweet and always said things tactfully. Drunk Betty was blunt as hell.

I watched Cindy clench and unclench her fists a few times. “You don’t fucking know what happened to me, Betty.”

“Then tell me.”

“FINE!” Cindy snapped. All of us flinched. “You wanna know? I was kidnapped in a bathroom at a movie theatre. I had a chloroform-soaked pillowcase thrown over my head. I woke up in a dark office strapped down to a goddamn table with needles in my arms, pumping green shit into my veins. I had to lay there and be still and not make a noise for twelve days. TWELVE DAYS. TWELVE DAYS OF BEING HIT WHEN I MOVED OR MADE A NOISE. TWELVE DAYS OF BEING FUCKING EXPERIMENTED ON. TWELVE DAYS OF BEING RAPED OVER AND OVER BY MY FRIEND’S DAD! THAT’S WHAT I WENT THROUGH, BETTY. NOW YOU KNOW.”

Cindy was shaking, tears were streaming down her face.

She said she’d been raped. And I wanted to pull her aside and tell her I knew how it felt and that she didn’t have to go through it alone, but I couldn’t.

I looked at Miles, to see his eyes glistening and his fists clenched so tight, his arms were shaking.

Peter came into the room, and saw Cindy crying.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

She turned and wrapped her arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He whispered something into her ear, then she pulled away and walked with him out of the room.

Betty dropped her eyes and left. Jessie followed her.

That left Miles and I, alone in the room, stunned.

“She was- she was raped, too,” he mumbled. “That- I guess that explains a lot.”

I frowned. “Explains what?”

He blinked, a couple tears spilling over. He reached up and wiped them away. “The day she, um, blew up at me, I’d come over with movies and popcorn and stuff, and I guess she was already upset or something, because she looked sad, and I went to give her a hug and the second I touched her, she snapped. I-I didn’t think for a _second_ -”

His voice broke and he stopped, taking a couple deep breaths.

“Can we go find her? I feel like I owe her an apology.” He was slurring a bit now that he was emotional.

I nodded. “Sure.”

We wandered through the house until I heard Peter’s voice coming from a hallway. Miles froze up, like he was nervous.

“She hates me,” he whispered.

“No, she doesn’t,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if it was true. I couldn’t see why she would, but I felt like I barely knew her anymore. Were we even friends?

“Can you, um, go first?”

I rolled my eyes, but I did. I rounded the corner, only to see Peter and Cindy standing a few inches apart. Cindy still had tears on her cheeks, but she was staring up at him with wide eyes. He was leaning close and talking softly, and looking at her with the same look he gave me when I was crying, back when we were dating. It looked like he was going to kiss her.

Before they could see me, I left, finding myself rushing to leave. My heart was pounding. I knew they’d gotten closer since the breakup, but I didn’t think-

I ran past Miles, and he said my name, but I didn’t stop.

I past Harry talking to Ned, too, which only made my heart beat faster.

I vaguely remember Connor grabbing my arm and asking what was wrong, to which I said something about Cindy and Peter being too cozy for my liking. I kept going.

I didn’t stop until I saw Matty. I don’t know what I was thinking, if I wanted to get back at Cindy by sleeping with the guy she’d slept with at the last party, if I just needed some kind of comfort, if I was just drunk and stupid, but the next thing I knew, I was grabbing him and pulling him aside and pressing my lips to his. And then we were finding our way into a bedroom and helping each other out of clothes.

This was different, though. I didn’t know Matty like I knew Peter or Harry. I didn’t feel safe or comforted or in control. I just felt like a shitty friend.

**November 1 st **

Before school, I managed to track Matty down. He was standing alone at his locker, looking at his phone.

He was objectively cute. He kinda looked like the guy from _To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before_. Maybe that’s what Drunk MJ had seen in him.

“Hey, um, can we talk?”

He looked up, eyes going wide when he saw me. He put his phone in his pocket and stood up straighter. “Sure.”

I took a breath. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was…upset, I guess, and it was stupid and I’m, um, I’m just sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that. It was just a one night stand, I get it.” He hesitated, then added, “It was just a one night stand, right? You’re not, like, expecting more?”

“What? God, no.”

“You’re sure?” Honestly, it was kind of sweet, the way he seemed concerned. I definitely wasn’t mad at the guy.

“Matty, I can promise you that last night was just a stupid, impulsive decision. I’m not secretly in love with you or anything,” I said. This was the most awkward conversation I had ever had.

“That was…impulsive?” He seemed like he didn’t believe me.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed really sure of yourself. I figured that maybe you’d been wanting to do that for a while.”

I blinked. “No. Not at all. That’s not- no. It was just- I was upset and drunk and impulsive and didn’t make great choices last night. It’s not- I didn’t, like, premeditate that or anything.”

Matty nodded. “Okay. Um, good talk, I guess.”

“Yeah. Good talk.”

I walked past him, cringing internally at how awkward that conversation was.

Third block, I had my art class. I was working on a watercolour piece, and I was pretty focused, when the door opened and hit the wall loudly. I looked up to see Harry looking kind of sheepish and apologetic.

He’d caught me in a class. I couldn’t run or avoid him. I had to sit here and deal with him.

He approached my table. I was already standing, because for some reason I have a hard time sitting in chairs to do art, so I didn’t have to look up or anything to talk to him, which made me feel a little better. There was no power struggle. We were just talking. I pulled out my earphones so he knew he could talk to me.

“Hey.” His voice was quieter than usual.

I dipped my brush in water and swirled it around, just to make it clear that I wasn’t going to stop painting to talk to him. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?” That slight English inflection was peaking through. I hadn’t noticed it since he came back from London, but he seemed to have his walls down right now.

“Is that not what we’re doing?”

He looked a little hurt at the snarky response, but didn’t back down. “I talked to Connor.”

I froze. Shit. I put my paintbrush down and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Just about you not talking to me, and he said that you didn’t like not being in control, and it kind of just…clicked, I guess. I just- I thought you said yes, and I should’ve made sure, and I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that, and I’m so sorry.”

He watched my reaction carefully.

“Okay.”

“Is that- MJ-”

“Apology accepted,” I interrupted.

He didn’t seem to believe me, but I wholeheartedly did. I could feel the fear dissolving as I looked at him. He hadn’t meant to hurt me. He hadn’t meant to scare me. He wasn’t Brandon.

I let my exterior soften. I knew I looked harsh and withdrawn, so I relaxed a little.

“Harry, I’m not mad at you.”

“You seemed…really angry.” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“I wasn’t pissed off or anything,” I told him. “You just- you scared me.” I heard my voice go soft. I sounded like a sad little kid. I hated it.

“I didn’t mean to, MJ. I know that probably sounds, I don’t know, hard to believe or whatever, but I really didn’t mean to scare you. I thought- I don’t know what I thought.”

“You thought I said yes.”

He looked away, ashamed. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, dude.”

He still looked like he felt guilty, so I walked around the table, arms open.

“Come here,” I said.

He hugged me, squeezing the air out of me. I could feel the muscle tension in his back and shoulders, and suddenly I felt bad for stressing him out.

“You should go back to class,” I mumbled, still hugging him.

“I know.” He pulled away, letting out a breath. “We’re good?”

“We’re good. Go to class, dude.”

“Okay, okay.”

He smiled at me before he left the classroom. I went back to my art piece.

The girl at the next table over leaned towards me. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“What? No. He’s my friend.”

She blinked. “If I had a friend that hot, we would not be staying just friends, I can tell you that much.” She shook her head a little and went back to her artwork.

I put my earphones in and worked until the end of class.

After class, I found Connor at his locker.

“Hey, um, Harry mentioned that he talked to you.”

“Oh, you guys are talking again? That’s good!” He looked away from his locker and saw me with my arms wrapped around myself, bouncing on my toes. “You look anxious, did something happen?”

“No, everything’s fine. We sorted it all out. What exactly did you tell him?”

“I just told him that you don’t like not being in control. I didn’t say anything else, I swear.”

“Nothing about Brandon?” I asked anxiously.

Connor raised his right hand. “I, Connor Martin, solemnly swear that I did not mention anything Brandon-related to Harry at all.”

I rolled my eyes, relaxing. “You’re so dramatic.”

Connor shrugged. “You love it. So, you and Harry are good?”

“Yeah, everything’s all fine and dandy.”

“Dandy?”

“I said what I said.”

Connor grinned. “I love you. I’m glad you and Harry are okay. Did you talk to Matty?”

I nodded. “It was the most awkward conversation of my life, but yes, I did.”

“That’s good. Okay, I have a class to get to, but I’m really glad you and Harry worked things out.”

“Me too. See you, dude.”

**November 2 nd **

I was at home, avoiding my mom and Brandon in my room when my phone rang. It was Peter.

“Hey, dude, what’s up?”

“Okay, so,” he panted, “I’m babysitting my neighbour’s kid, and we’re in the middle of a very intense swordfight, so obviously we’re getting a little hungry-”

“You want me to pick up a pepperoni and a cheese pizza?” I asked, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“Yeah, the kid will only eat cheese. Can you grab some curly fries, too? I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it, Peter. I’ll be over in a bit.”

I grabbed my purse and my keys, and headed out.

“Where are you rushing off to?” Brandon asked, wiping his hands on a towel and leaning against a kitchen counter. My skin crawled.

“Just a friend’s place.” I slipped my shoes on, hoping I looked urgent enough that he wouldn’t press.

I was wrong. He stood up straight, then took two slow, threatening steps towards me. “Just a friend’s place?”

“Yeah, um, they wanted help with a babysitting…problem.”

I had to be careful that Brandon didn’t catch on I was going to a guy’s place. I didn’t want to deal with whatever adverse reaction he might have to that. Anger, jealousy, possessiveness, whatever. I didn’t want it.

He lifted his chin, seeming to be deciding whether or not to let me go. Before he made a decision, I opened the door.

“I told them I’d be there in ten minutes, so I gotta go.”

I slipped out, closing the door a little too hard in my panic to get away from Brandon. Every look he gave me made my chest tighten.

I went by Pizza 73 on my way to Peter’s. He buzzed me in, telling me he’d left the door unlocked.

I walked in, carrying three boxes of food, to see Peter and the kid he was babysitting in their pajamas, swinging cardboard swords at each other and yelling.

I laughed, putting the boxes down and taking a quick picture.

“Hey, MJ’s here! Chase, this is MJ, our pizza savior,” Peter said, grabbing the sword from the kid and setting them both down. He came over and gave me a quick hug, whispering, “Thank you.”

I grinned. “Pizza savior? That’s a title I can live with.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Chase asked, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

I watched Peter carefully, biting my lip.

“No, we’re just friends.” Maybe I imagined it, but he sounded disappointed. But that had to just be me, because he was the one who dumped me.

“You should ask her to be your girlfriend. She’s pretty.”

“Oh, I like him,” I teased, trying to lift the tension between us. Peter dropped his head, laughing. He was sweating a little, and still catching his breath. His fair fell in his face when he dropped his head, curls bouncing just a little.

“Can we eat now?” Chase whined. Ah, little kids, always cutting through tension without even realizing it.

I carried the boxes into the kitchen while Peter got plates for all of us. We sat down at the table, grabbing handfuls of fries and slices of pizza.

Halfway through dinner, Peter’s phone started buzzing.

“It’s Chase’s mom. I’ll be back in a second.”

He left the room, answering the phone as he did.

Chase leaned towards me. “He really likes you, you know.”

I smiled at him. “Yeah, we’re pretty close.”

“I mean in the girlfriend-boyfriend way. I can tell.” He said it in the way little kids do when they’re super confident in themselves and they feel like they’re imparting some rare wisdom on you.

“Can you? How can you tell?”

“After he called you, he was talking about you like…the way my mom talks about Brad Pitt. Plus, he was way happier to see you than he was to see Ned when Ned came by with movies last time I was here.”

I didn’t know what to say. Was that true?

“I did bring food. He was probably happier about that than me.”

“Nah,” Chase said, but then he was done with the conversation, going back to chomping down on his piece of cheese pizza.

Peter came back into the room a minute later. “She was just checking in, making sure everything’s okay.” He sat back down, popping a curly fry in his mouth.

I found myself staring at him. I dropped my gaze back to my plate, picking up my pizza and taking a bite.

About an hour later, Chase’s mom came by to pick him up, and Peter and I were left alone in the apartment. I helped him clean up the kitchen and put leftovers away, but then we were kinda just standing there, awkwardly.

“Cindy and I didn’t kiss at the party,” he blurted. He blushed right after he said it. “I, um, I saw you see us, and then you left kind of…abruptly, and, I don’t know, I thought that maybe you thought that something happened, but nothing did.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Is that- is that what you thought?” he asked, refusing to meet my eyes.

I put my hands on the counter and boosted myself up. Sitting on counters was always more comfortable than sitting in chairs. “I don’t know. Maybe. You guys seemed really close. Besides, it seemed like a private moment, and I was just there to make sure she was okay.”

There was a moment of silence. It was thick and uncomfortable.

“Do you wanna go catch a movie or something? There’s a theatre a couple blocks away that’s showing _The Hate U Give_ really late.”

“I can’t believe you’ve heard of _The Hate U Give_.”

“It seemed like the kind of movie you’d like, and the trailer was good.”

There was another awkward silence.

“I should probably just go home. I’ve got homework and stuff to do before the party tomorrow, and I won’t want to if I’m tired.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” he said, but he sounded disappointed.

“Sorry, dude.”

“No, it’s fine. I- it’s fine. Thanks for coming over tonight.”

“Yeah, of course.”

I didn’t like that things were awkward with us. We were supposed to be friends. Everything had been fine at the arcade.

Fuck it. I was just gonna say it.

“This sucks.”

“What?”

“This isn’t us. It’s tense and awkward.”

Peter let out a relieved sigh. “Yeah. It’s weird.”

“Maybe it’ll just be weird for a while.” My voice came out all soft and vulnerable. As much as I hated it, it wasn’t the most vulnerable I’d ever been in front of Peter.

He huffed, looking away. “I don’t like that. I-I want my best friend back.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

We went silent again, but it was less uncomfortable this time. After a moment, I jumped down from the counter.

“I should go home.”

“O-okay.”

He walked me to the door, and hugged me. The hug was just a second too long.

“Drive safe,” he told me, pulling away. “I still need you to help me study for the physics test next week, so you’re not allowed to die.”

I snorted. “I’ll help you on Monday after the decathlon meeting, if you want.”

A slow smile spread across his face. It was kinda cute, watching his whole face light up like that. “Thanks.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

I headed out, giving him one last smile before the door closed behind me.

Wow, being in love with a friend after you’ve broken up? Way more painful than being in love with a friend before you’ve broken up.

Since he’d brought up Cindy, I realized that I hadn’t spoken to her since the party, so when I got home, I texted her.

Me: hey cindy

Cindy: hey

Me: you kinda blew up at the Halloween party and you’ve been really distant the last few days is everything okay?

Cindy: I mean everyone has a different definition of okay so I’d count myself as okay

Me: You know you can talk to me if you need to, right? Obviously I won’t fully understand the stuff about being experimented on but I had a pretty rough childhood and things aren’t exactly great right now so there’s definitely some stuff I can relate to

I wanted to tell her that I’d been raped, too, just so she didn’t feel so alone, but I was scared.

Cindy: mj id trust you with my life but there are some things you have to sort out on ur own you know what I mean?

Me: I know how it feels but you really don’t have to sort them out on your own

Me: you have a group of friends that loves you and would do anything for you and I promise you can talk to me. I’ll understand more than you know

I was shaking. I had to tell her, I owed it to her. But the more I admitted it, the harder it’d be to shove it down deep and forget about it.

Cindy: when I’m ready I’ll come and talk but for now I’m on my own

Me: Cindy please

There was a long pause, and I figured she’d just read the text and moved on with her life, rather than actually talking to me. But then she started typing.

Cindy: it’s just that I like miles but I like matty it’s confusing because I don’t know who I like

Cindy: if I like miles then I don’t know whats gonna happen to me and matty but if I go with matty I have no clue whats gonna go on with me and miles

Me: who can you absolutely not lose?

Cindy: I can’t lose both of them they both mean the world to me

Me: okay close your eyes and imagine walking down the aisle

Me: who do you see waiting for you in a tux?

Cindy: well miles I guess hes always been the one ive wanted to see down the aisle

Me: then that’s who you have to pick. Or at least let back in

Me: he misses you dude. A lot

Cindy: I just don’t know how to talk to him again

Me: why did you shut him out to begin with?

Cindy: idek it just got so overwhelming

Me: I would personally say start by apologizing but you could literally spit on Miles and he’d gush to me about it over the phone all night. Maybe sit down with him at lunch this week. You don’t even have to say anything just sit with him

Cindy: maybe I’ll try doing that. It’s easier than trying to start a conversation with him in the hallway

Me: yeah

Me: seriously though sometimes you’re all he can talk about

Cindy: good to know he doesn’t completely hate me

Me: he could never

Me: he loves you so much

Cindy: but I mean after all that’s happened there’s a chance he won’t take me back

Cindy: I completely pushed him away

Me: okay dude trust me

Cindy: mj you know I trust you

Me: who else would know Miles well enough to tell you with absolute certainty that he is 1000% in love with you

Cindy: …the person who has been friends with him since they were kids

Cindy: should I just try to sit next to him next week or do I try to start texting him again

Me: just sit with him at lunch. If you text him he’ll overthink it way too much

Cindy: okay I’ll try to sit with him whenever I can

Me: I’ll make sure there’s an extra seat

Cindy: thanks mj

Me: of course, anytime

**November 3 rd **

A few of us from the Midtown squad were at a party, thrown by one of the more popular kids at Midtown. Honestly, I didn’t care who. I kind of just wanted an excuse to get drunk with my friends.

I was hanging out with Jessie and we walked into the kitchen to get drinks. There was a couple making out, the girl sitting on the counter.

“Ugh, get a room,” Jessie groaned, grabbing a can of beer out of the fridge and passing it to me.

“Oh my god,” I mumbled, realizing who the couple was.

It was Peter and Liz.

I didn’t realize at first, because you couldn’t really see their faces, but I’d seen Peter in that shirt earlier, and I’d recognize Liz’s ridiculously luscious hair anywhere.

“MJ?”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know if I wanted to throw up or cry. All I could do was stand there and stare.

How could Liz of all people do this? I’d asked her explicit permission to tell him how I felt, to date him, all of that, out of respect for her feelings, despite the fact that they’d never dated. And here she was, making out with my ex, right in front of me.

“MJ, come on, let’s-”

I ignored Jessie, pulling out my phone and texting Harry. He told me to meet him outside, by his limo.

I chugged the can of beer, then walked outside and met him by the limo.

“Hey, are you- is something wrong?”

I shook my head, getting in the limo. Once we were inside and Harry’s chauffer started to drive, I got on Harry’s lap and kissed him.

I was perfectly aware that I was on some kind of wild self-destructive downwards spiral, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Besides, the more I thought about Peter and Liz making out in the kitchen, the more I wanted to have sex with Harry.

Wow, I was fucked up.

**November 4 th **

Miles didn’t answer. I’d called him ten times, and he wasn’t answering.

I was panicking. The room was blurry, swirling around me. The only thing protecting me from Brandon was the chair shoved under the door handle, in lieu of a lock.

How stupid was I to accept a drink from him, knowing what he’d done before? How stupid was I to think he’d draw the line at drugging my lemonade?

I dialled Harry’s number. He was next in my call log, and I was desperate. I didn’t care if he knew what had happened before or not. I just needed help.

“What’s up, Jones?”

“Can I come over?” My voice sounded broken and distorted, even to me.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. No. No, it’s not. I-I can call an Uber or something, you don’t have to come get me-”

“Why can’t you drive? Are you drunk? You don’t sound like yourself.”

I blinked slowly, trying to fix my vision. It was still twisted and blurry. “I-I haven’t had any alcohol.”

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Harry that’s- you don’t have to do that, I can call an Uber.” I wondered if I’d be able to stand.

“Where are you?” he asked again, his tone firmer this time.

“I’m at home.”

I heard him moving around. “I’ll be there in ten. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“If you’re not drunk,” he said, “what’s going on?”

“I think I’ve been drugged again.”

“Again?”

“Please, Harry, just-”

“MJ, what do you mean ‘again’?”

“I-”

I was cut off by a banging on my bedroom door. “Michelle, who are you talking to?”

I jumped, then panicked, covering my phone’s mic. “Um, it’s one of my classmates. He’s just, uh, dropping off part of a project we’re working on,” I lied. How I was able to come up with that with my foggy brain, I’ll never understand.

“What project?” my mom yelled, shaking the door handle.

“It’s for a biology project! It’s about, um, DNA and stuff.”

“How do I know he’s not just here to be another one of your boy toys?”

I was barely holding it together. I could barely stand.

“I’m just- I gotta go downstairs and pick it up.” I uncovered my phone mic, then cautiously moved the chair and opened my door. Brandon turned and gave me a creepy look from the kitchen, his eyes raking up and down my body.

“Oh, come on, Michelle, don’t look at me like that,” he fake-pleaded, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

“Who is that?” Harry asked, his voice loud in my ear. It threw me off for a second.

I didn’t say anything, and barely managed to slip out of the front door before Brandon got in the way.

“Nothing. Nobody. Where are you?”

“I’m just a few minutes away. Do you need anything?”

I lost my balance, falling against the hallway wall. I pushed myself back up, holding one hand to the wall and the other hand holding the phone to my ear. I tried desperately to keep my eyes on the end of the hall, just so I could get to the elevator at the end.

“I keep a backpack downstairs. With-with the doorman,” I told him. I wasn’t really telling him so much as thinking out loud. I might need that backpack.

“MJ, should I call 911?”

“No,” I answered, too fast. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll just- I’ll head downstairs. I’ll get my bag and I’ll meet you out front.”

I started to make my way down the hall, struggling just to stay on my feet. The hall seemed to be swinging back and forth, and even though I knew, logically, it wasn’t, it was hard to keep my footing.

“MJ, you don’t sound okay.”

“Please,” I begged, “just please, Harry, don’t ask me about it.”

There was a pause. “Okay.”

I managed to make it to the elevator, then practically collapsed into it when the doors opened, hitting the lobby button before I hit the wall and fell to the ground. I groaned.

“MJ?”

“I’m fine.”

“Jones, what happened?”

“I’m fine,” I repeated.

“I can’t help you if-”

“Please, Harry.”

He paused. “I’m a couple blocks away. I’m in the limo. We’ll get you out of there, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Just breathe, MJ.”

I took a few deep breaths. The elevator doors opened, and I managed to get up enough to crawl out.

The doorman, Cole, saw me.

“Miss Jones?”

I didn’t have the breath to say anything, so I just nodded.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, coming over and helping me to my feet.

“No,” I admitted. “I just need the bag. The one I take to Miles’ all the time.”

“Sit down,” Cole pleaded.

I shook my head. “I won’t be able to stand up again.”

“Who are you on the phone with?”

“Harry. He’s coming to pick me up.”

“Can I talk to him?”

I handed Cole the phone.

“Hi…yeah. I have her. And the bag.” He paused. “She seems pretty out of it…yeah, hospital. For sure.”

I grabbed my phone back, almost dropping it. “Harry, don’t take me to a hospital.”

“What? MJ, you’re-”

“I was on my dad’s health insurance.”

There was a long pause. “Okay.” It sounded different. It sounded like a lie.

Cole pulled my backpack out of the supply closet. It had snacks, money, extra clothes, extra toiletries, everything I’d need. Except for Murphy. And Miles. But those weren’t options. Murphy was in my room, asleep on my window seat. Miles wasn’t answering his phone.

“Thank you,” I told Cole. He gave me a very concerned look, but maybe that was just my warped vision.

“I’m outside,” Harry said. “I’ll come in and get you.” He hung up.

A few seconds later, he ran in, knocking desperately on the door. Cole buzzed him in, and he ran towards me. The second I could, I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned against him.

“Can we just go back to your place? I need to sleep this off.”

Harry and Cole exchanged looks, then Harry said, “Yeah, okay.”

He helped me walk out of the building, then helped me into the limo. I felt like I was getting worse. I kept blinking, hoping my vision would go back to normal, but things got more and more twisted and warped. Eventually, I couldn’t sit up straight, and laid across Harry’s lap.

“Seven one eight four three nine eight four five two,” I whispered. It was Miles’ number. I’d memorized it the day Mama Morales gave him his first cell phone.

“What?”

“Seven one eight four three nine eight four five two. It’s a phone number.”

Harry opened his phone and typed something, then put it away.

I stared at his face. I couldn’t tell how he was feeling. Things were blurry, and maybe they were getting darker? Or maybe it was just a dark limo.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

I frowned. “You don’t look happy.”

Harry shook his head, and said something, but it seemed distorted. It wasn’t right.

I blinked a few times, and each time, my eyelids got heavier.

At some point, I stopped opening them.


	22. Nov. 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 147-152 (thanks @itslizzyallan for staying up late to finish the playlist <3)  
> The next few chapters are formatted a little different than normal. It'll go hour-by-hour and the POV will change between Harry, Miles, and Peter. Enjoy :)

**Hour One - Harry**

 I sat there, bouncing my leg, hands shaking, watching the EKG, too scared to blink in case something changed. Her blood oxygen was low, due to her shallow, uneven breathing, and her heartbeat was erratic. It wasn’t the steady beating that indicated someone stable. It was skipping, speeding up, slowing down, almost stopping for a moment, and then jumping up again. I couldn’t take my eyes off the machine. Maybe if I’d answered her first phone call, or if I’d sped through a couple more red lights, or if I’d just called her an ambulance, maybe she wouldn’t be slipping away like this. Those few minutes could cost her her life, and that’d be on me.

Part of the reason I couldn’t take my eyes off the EKG was because she looked like she was dying. Her skin was two or three shades paler than normal, her lips dry and colourless, and every contour on her face was exaggerated. I would’ve held her hand, but I was scared it’d be cold. I was starting to convince myself she was already gone. Despite the uneven beeping, it felt like she was already dead. I couldn’t look at her. It terrified me.

There was a bucket next to her bed. A nurse had mentioned that it was there in case she threw up, adding that that would be a good thing, for her body to recognize that it needed to get rid of the drugs in her system. I couldn’t imagine her waking up long enough to throw up. I couldn’t imagine her waking up ever again. The way she looked right now, it didn’t seem possible.

It was a disturbing thought. MJ, one of my closest friends, dead. I couldn’t imagine going to school and not seeing her at her locker, with at least one book and sketchbook in hand. Seeing the inside of her locker door plastered with her art projects and news clippings. I couldn’t imagine sitting alone in our math class, without her leaning over and correcting my stupid mistakes on my page and joking about how boarding school did me no good.

I wondered if she knew how much I cared about her, or if she was gonna die in this bed thinking she was all alone.

Miles and his mom knocked on the door. I stood and opened the door for them.

“What happened to her?” Miles asked, brushing past me and crossing to the bed. I frowned.

“How did you get here so fast? I just texted the group chat.”

“The hospital called,” his mom, Mama Morales, explained. “Did you give them my number?”

“She gave me a number before she blacked out,” I told her. “I figured it’d be her mom or her brother or something.”

Miles frowned. “Why would she give her mom’s number?”

I remembered what I’d heard in the background of the phone call when I was on my way to her building. Her mom was there. Her mom had probably let it happen.

“I don’t know.”

Mama Morales stood next to MJ’s bed, and pushed the hair off MJ’s forehead with her whole hand, the way moms do when they’re trying to comfort a sick child. I guess MJ was a sick child.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Miles said, sitting in the chair next to me and taking MJ’s hand in both of his. “What happened?”

“I’m-I’m not quite sure. She called me, and I missed the first couple calls, and when I finally picked up, she sounded panicked and...drunk, but not how she normally sounds when she’s drunk. She was slurring and confused and scared, and then she mentioned that this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.”

Miles nodded, like he knew, but didn’t open his mouth to tell me, so I didn’t press.

“Anyways, she begged me to come pick her up, and at first I was just going to take her back to my place and let her stay the night, but then I realized exactly how bad the situation was. So I brought her here. She started chanting a phone number in the car, which I guess was yours, and then passed out, and she’s been out ever since.”

“Did they draw blood yet?” Miles’ mom asked.

“Yeah, that was one of the first things they did.”

“Good.”

**Hour Two - Miles**

I should’ve made her stay over the second she told me her mom had her boyfriend over. Because of course Brandon would try this again.

If I’d just had my stupid phone on while I was studying, I wouldn’t have missed her calls. I would’ve been able to be with her from the start. Those few minutes might’ve saved her. If she died because of me...

I couldn’t let my mind go there. She’d be fine. This was MJ, she was always okay in the end.

I was just glad she managed to get one of us on the phone. If she’d stayed at home, there was not a doubt in my mind her mom would let her get hurt again. She wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, either. They wouldn’t have cared if she overdosed. She’d be lying in her bed, dead, and they wouldn’t care.

I realized I was so angry, I was grinding my teeth. I took a breath and sat back, letting my shoulders relax.

“You doing okay, Miles?” Harry asked.

I shook my head. No point in lying. “Not really.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

I ran my thumb over her knuckles. “I know she’s not technically my little sister, but...”

“I know.”

“What kind of big brother does that make me?”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man.”

“No, I-I was outside her building the night this first happened. She somehow convinced me to go home, and Brandon hurt her, and that’s on me. I should’ve stayed. I shouldn’t have let her push me away.”

“You can’t be her guardian angel.”

I was shaking now. “I can do better than this, though.”

“Miles, stop.”

“No, Harry, she called me, like, ten times. I didn’t pick up.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does-”

“Would MJ blame you? No, of course not. Stop blaming yourself. It’s not helpful for anybody.”

I leaned forward putting my elbows on her bed and holding her hand between both of mine. She looked awful. Pale, colourless skin. Sunken eyes and cheeks. Dry, grey lips.

It scared me. I couldn’t lose her. I didn’t know how to exist without her. She’d been around since we were five. She was the only one I could talk to sometimes. Like when Cindy blew up at me and stopped talking to me entirely, MJ was there, waiting to hug me and listen to me whine about my broken heart. Or when I got into a really bad fight with Mom over stuff that had happened with Dad, MJ took me out for coffee even though it was really late and she had a test the next day, and just let me cry. I was supposed to protect her. She was good and kind and giving and she deserved better than this. She deserved so much better.

I rested my forehead on our hands and let tears start to fall.

I hoped she knew how much I loved her. How much I needed her. If she was going to die, if that was the inevitable outcome of this situation, all I wanted was for her to die knowing I would miss her for the rest of my life.

**Hour Three - Harry**

Miles gave himself some time to cry, so I gave him space. I got up and left the room, and so did his mom.

“You really don’t know much about her situation, do you?” Mama Morales asked.

I shook my head. “She always seemed to shut down when people brought it up, so I didn’t ask.”

A nurse went into the room with a folder.

“That’s a good reason, I suppose.” She paused. “Thanks for bringing her here.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m not as close to her as Miles is, but she’s still one of my best friends.”

Mama Morales took a deep breath, clearly trying to cope with the situation as calmly as possible, then mumbled something about needing a cigarette and left. It was strange. I saw MJ and Miles interact all the time. I watched them tease each other and lean on each other for support all the time, but I’d never seen MJ’s relationship with his mom. I’d never thought about it really, but I knew that she and Miles had known each other for twelve years, and that she spent a lot of time at his place, so it made sense that she spent a significant amount of time with Mama Morales, maybe more time with her than her own mother.

I wondered what her relationship was really like with her mother. I’d been at MJ’s place when her mom was home, and she always seemed like the cool mom. She let MJ have access to the liquor cabinet and didn’t really set a curfew for her. From the outside, it always looked like a good situation. MJ hadn’t really said anything that made it seem like anything other than perfectly fine, at least to me. I didn’t know anything about what happened behind closed doors. Maybe the way she’d acted after the breakup, or even after her dad died, maybe that should’ve tipped me off, that she looked like an open book but it was all just appearances. The first few days after she and Peter broke up, she was upset, but she seemed to get over it quickly. For about a week after her dad died, she stayed home from school, but I never got any other indication of how she was doing. She didn’t talk to me about it.

I remembered the night before she came back to school. Liz, Connor, and I went over to her place to keep her company. Her mom yelled at her, telling her she couldn’t use her dad’s death as an excuse to skip school for so long. I knew her mom and her dad had a tenuous relationship, and I thought maybe she was just too resentful of him to consider her daughter’s feelings in that moment. It had probably been a small glimpse into what their relationship was really like.

It made sense. That MJ’s mom didn’t really care about her. All the free reign that MJ had seemed like paradise for a while, but it was just signs that her mom wasn’t a good parent.

I was leaning against the wall outside MJ’s room, eyes closed, my thoughts swirling and tangling, and I was so busy trying to make sense of the situation, I didn’t notice the nurse leave the room, and I didn’t hear the footsteps coming down the hall.

“Harry.”

I opened my eyes to see Peter. He definitely looked panicked. He had his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweater, his shoulders were tense, and despite looking sleep-deprived, he was wide-eyed.

“Peter, it’s three in the morning.”

“I-I know. I saw your text to the group chat about MJ. Is she okay?”

I dropped my eyes. “I don’t know. She hasn’t woken up.”

Peter made a move to open the door and go in, and I blocked him.

“Miles is- he needs a moment alone with her.”

That didn’t help Peter’s panic. “Is she dying?”

I didn’t have an answer. My silence didn’t help Peter either. He tried to get into the room again, so I blocked him again, then saw the look of panic on his face and gave him a hug. “Just-just give Miles a moment with her. He needs it.”

Peter backed off, then leaned against the wall next to me. “What happened?”

I started to tell him the story. He seemed to understand a little more than I did, but not much. Which made sense, I guess. By the time I finished telling him, we were both sitting with our backs to the wall.

“Do we- we have to stay with her. At least one of us does.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter looked at his phone. “School starts in five hours.”

I looked at him, frowning. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now?”

There was a moment of silence, and then we both cracked up. Of course that’s what Peter would worry about.

When we stopped chuckling about the ridiculousness of the situation, I said, “You should stay with her.”

Peter shook his head. “She won’t want to wake up to see me, of all people.”

“She still loves you, dude. And you still love her. Besides, you won’t be able to focus in class if you’re worried about MJ.”

He dropped his head forward. “I know.” He sighed. “I just- I don’t want her to wake up and want Miles instead. He’s her brother. She’ll want him there more than she’ll want me.”

I shook my head, opening my mouth to say something, but the door opened. I looked up to see Miles, eyes puffy from crying. He didn’t seem surprised to see Peter.

“Come in.”

Peter and I stood and went into the room. MJ’s eyes were barely open. Peter all but sprinted to her bedside, sitting down next to her. She mumbled something to him I didn’t hear, then looked at me, her eyebrows furrowing as she did.

I walked closer so I’d be able to hear whatever she had to say to me.

“I told you not to take me to a hospital,” she muttered.

“I gave them my insurance, it’s fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you did.”

I noticed the folder the nurse had brought in sitting on a table next to her bed. I turned to Miles. “Are those the results from the blood test?”

He nodded. “Three different date rape drugs. Rohypnol, GHB, and ketamine.” He was weirdly calm, for someone who was so overprotective of MJ.

“How is she still alive?”

He shrugged. “She’s MJ. Do you really think she wouldn’t put up a fight?” Something in his voice was...off.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I looked down for a moment, and noticed his fists clenched by his side. His face was almost completely blank, but his hands were shaking. He was definitely angry underneath all that calm.

MJ had passed out again, head slightly tilted towards Peter. He looked like he was barely holding it together.

It was weird. Three guys who loved MJ in different ways, all struggling to stay calm in the face of potentially losing her. All angry and panicked and absolutely shaken to the core. Somehow, none of us were finding any comfort in each other. We weren’t sitting there, trying to convince each other that she was going to be okay. We all knew that maybe she wouldn’t.

The fact that she’d woken up, and been lucid enough to recognize us, been able to speak, those were all good signs. It didn’t ease my terror.

“Harry, you should sit down,” Peter said softly.

I sat down in the chair next to him. He was sitting with his elbow on his knees, leaning forward and watching MJ carefully. Miles sat down on the other side of the bed, holding her hand.

“How are you doing?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet. For some reason, there was this urge to whisper. Maybe it was because she was unconscious, or because it was almost four in the morning. Either way, it felt wrong to speak at a normal volume.

Peter just shook his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, and tears fell down his face.

Miles’ phone started buzzing. “It’s my mom. I’ll be right back.” He got up and left the room, standing just outside the room as he put the phone to his ear.

“It doesn’t feel real. She looks so frail. It seems impossible for her to be frail,” Peter said. “I’ve seen her cry and-and even then, she doesn’t seem weak.”

“I know. When I heard her voice over the phone...I’d never heard her sound scared before. She doesn’t panic.”

Miles poked his head back in the room. “My mom’s going to McDonald’s. Do you guys want anything?”

I looked at Peter. “He needs a milkshake.”

Miles snorted. “Don’t we all.”

He closed the door again and kept talking.

Peter let out a slow breath. “How bad could it have been for her to be scared?”

“I don’t know, but apparently she was drugged, so pretty bad.”

“ _What?_ ”

I hushed him. “Yeah, they ran a blood test on her when I first brought her in. They found three drugs in her system.”

I’d seen Peter angry a handful of times. The first was in elementary, when a substitute teacher made a kid cry. Peter grabbed Ned and I and marched us down to the principal’s office so we could complain about it. The second was the summer between seventh and eight grade, when my dad told me my mother had never loved me, and Peter went off on him. Peter wasn’t allowed over until the next summer, but he stood by what he said. The third was when Flash posted MJ’s texts to her Instagram. Peter found him after she left that day, and Flash went home with a black eye and a bruised jaw.

Seeing Peter shake with anger scared me.

“Was she at home when she called you?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Yeah.”

He got up and walked out of the room without a word.

A few moments later, Miles came back in. “My mom’s bringing chocolate shakes and fries for all of us. Do you know where Peter’s going?”

I shrugged. “I told him about the drugs they found in her system, then he got angry and left. He’s probably just taking a walk.”

Miles frowned, sitting down again. “Peter doesn’t get angry. I punched him after the breakup and he didn’t even fight back.”

“Yeah, well, he wasn’t happy about the whole thing either. He thought he deserved it.”

Miles mumbled, “He did.” I pretended I didn’t hear it.

There was a long silence. The only noise in the room was the uneven beeping of the EKG and MJ’s shallow breathing. After a few minutes, Peter came and sat down again.

“Do you feel better?”

“No.”

**Hour Four - Peter**

“Are you staying?” MJ had mumbled to me when I sat down.

I had nodded.

And now I felt guilty for leaving the room for a moment to take a walk. What if she’d woken up, and I wasn’t there, and she just chalked it up to another broken promise? I’d hurt her enough, now wasn’t exactly the time to do anything else to hurt her.

Miles’ mom came back in with a tray of milkshakes and a bag of fries. She handed us each a milkshake and set the bag of fries on a table, then sat next to Miles.

It was four in the morning and I hadn’t eaten since six o’clock in the evening. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was until I could smell the fries. I grabbed one of the orders of fries and sat back down, alternating between sips of milkshake and handfuls of fries. The other two guys were eating at roughly the same pace, but Mama Morales was barely picking at her food. She’d always seemed like one of those women who’s never scared or shaken. She seemed shaken now, staring at the EKG and gripping Miles’ hand. It added to my fears. If she was scared, things were bad.

I finished the milkshake and fries and threw out my garbage, then sat down next to MJ’s bed again. All I could feel was regret. Regret that I’d ever hurt her, that I hadn’t been there for her when she was calling Miles and Harry like crazy, that she didn’t think to call me. I’d made myself that unavailable to her. I always used to tell her to stop pushing me away, and what had I gone and done? I’d pushed her so far away that when she was panicking, Harry was above me on her list of people to call in a crisis. Not that she and Harry weren’t close, but she and I used to be best friends. We used to spend every spare minute together. And now...

I’d never felt so numb.

**Hour Six - Harry**

The hospital room was a dreary place. Four people, stressing about a fifth, who’s vitals looked worse by the minute. I was still scared to touch her. I didn’t quite know what I thought would happen. Maybe I’d break her, or she’d be cold, or it just wouldn’t feel like MJ.

“Mom, can you call the school and tell them-”

“No, Miles, go to school,” Peter interrupted.

Miles stared at him.

“He’s right,” I added. “We have that big physics test today. Peter has it tomorrow.”

“I can stay with her,” Peter said, looking at me, then Miles. “I promise. I won’t leave, I’ll text you updates, I’ll tell you if you need to come back. Just go.”

Miles didn’t seem convinced. His mom nudged him. “You’ve been studying for that test all week. I’ll tell the school what’s going on, so hopefully they’ll understand if you’re anxious and you don’t do well, but it’d be a shame to do all of that work for nothing.”

“I can always rewrite it, Mom.”

“Baby, just do it. It’ll get your mind off of this. I’ll drop you off before work.”

Miles took a deep breath, looking at MJ.

“I want to be here if something changes.”

“I’ll text you,” Peter repeated.

I didn’t want to leave either, but it was a big test and there was no point in staying just to worry. “Miles, I’ll go with you.”

Miles’ mom looked at me. “I can drive you, too, if you’d like.”

“I’d love that, but do you mind if I take a moment before I join you?”

She nodded. “Come on, Miles, let’s give them a moment.”

He was hesitant, but he let go of MJ’s hand and went with his mom.

It was just Peter and I. And MJ, of course, but I wasn’t sure if she counted in this moment.

“Are you sure you want to be alone all day?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, but I don’t want you and Miles to miss that test.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’ll ask Ned to come later if I need him to. If I’m being honest, though, I kind of just need the space to freak out a little for a while, so it’ll be nice to be alone for a bit.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t think I’ll even be able to focus.”

“Just try, Harry. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you if anything changes.”

I looked at MJ again. She’d passed out with her head still tilted towards Peter. They were on good terms again, so she’d probably be happy to spend the day with Peter.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

I left the room, joining Miles and his mom.

**Hour Eight - Peter**

I didn’t even know what I was thinking about. I was lost in thought, but the second I snapped out of it, I couldn’t remember what was going on in my head.

It didn’t matter, though, because the thing that had snapped me out of it was MJ squeezing my hand. I looked up to see her already looking at me.

“Miles and Harry went to school,” I told her, just so she wouldn’t panic when she realized they were gone.

“You can go, too.” Her voice was quiet and a little raspy, likely due to her uneven breathing.

“Do-do you want me to?”

She shook her head. “No, but if you need to, you can. I’ll be fine.”

I looked up at the EKG. Her vitals still looked awful.

“I’m staying.”

She smiled, just a little, but it eased my worry. Her eyes still looked half-glazed over, and the rise and fall of her chest was shallow and uneven, but she could smile, and speak, and that was enough for now .

It was impossible to tell if she’d be okay after all of this. Her doctor still seemed to think she was on the brink of death, and even if she pulled through, it was possible she’d have permanent brain damage. That was almost scarier than the thought of her dying. MJ was so incredibly smart, and I knew that if something changed and she lost that, she’d feel like she was losing a part of her identity. I didn’t want her to lose any more than she already had. I couldn’t stand the thought of her not being happy.

 I squeezed her hand again, and she closed her eyes, her lips still lifted at the corners. I thought she’d fallen asleep again, but after a few minutes, she said, “I’m cold.”

“I can- I can ask a nurse or something for an extra blanket if you want.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay.”

“MJ, if you’re cold-”

“Can you lay down with me?” she asked. Her eyes looked a bit clearer, but now they looked like they were starting to well with tears.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed.” It broke my heart to say no, but the last thing I needed was to get kicked out of her room.

“Please?” Her voice broke. I couldn’t say no.

“Yeah, sure.”

I laid down next to her, and she immediately wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my shirt. Her body shook a little as she cried, but then she fell still. I could feel her breath across my shoulder, and hear the beeping of the heart monitor, but the sudden stillness scared me. I pulled her closer and hugged her tight, hoping desperately that if a nurse or her doctor came in that they’d let me stay.

**Hour Eleven - Harry**

Nothing was getting through. Nothing my teachers said made it past my ears into my brain. I wanted to go back to the hospital and be there if something happened, but Peter hadn’t texted me, so I wasn’t missing anything and there was no point.

The more my teachers talked, the less I listened. The less I listened, the more I was in my own head, thinking about MJ. The more I thought about her, the angrier I got. I didn’t know what was going on when she called, but she was at home. She’d been drugged in her own home.

I stood up and left class, ignoring my teacher’s disapproving, “Harry, sit down.”

I walked up and down hallways, and then found a bathroom to sit down and panic in. What if Peter had texted and I just hadn’t gotten it? What if Peter hadn’t texted when something big happened to stop me from leaving school?

I was grinding my teeth and shaking, and before I knew it, I was driving my fist into the tiled wall. It hurt like I could not believe, but I did it again before I could stop myself.

For a moment, I thought my vision had gone red, but the red on the wall was blood.

Walls don’t bleed.

I looked down at my hand to find that my knuckles were bleeding.

Yeah, that made sense.

I stared at my hand, at the blood dripping off of it onto the floor. I wasn’t really processing this. My hand didn’t even hurt.

I was constantly thinking about how we could lose MJ, and it didn’t leave room for any other information. There was only MJ, and the beeping I could almost hear even though I wasn’t sitting in the room with her. I wished I’d held her hand for a few moments while I was in the hospital. What if she died today and I’d been too much of a coward to touch her in case she was cold?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, so I pulled it out with my left hand, the one that wasn’t bleeding. Ned had texted me, asking for an update from the hospital. I told him I was at school, in a bathroom, and that my hand was bleeding.

A few moments later, Ned opened the door, to see me sitting on the ground, staring at the blood dripping off my hand.

“Are you just gonna sit there?” he asked, staring at the blood on the floor.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I think I’m in shock.”

“About MJ?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Ned helped me to my feet, then used some paper towels to help stop the bleeding.

“What did you do?”

I pointed at the blood on the wall.

“Geez, Harry, what are you doing? How many times did you punch it?”

“Twice, I think.”

“You think?”

“I don’t know, Ned, I was angry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You look tired,” he pointed out. “You should just go home and sleep.”

“I’m not gonna sleep if MJ this close to death.”

“How does your sleep deprivation help her?” Ned demanded, grabbing a fistful of paper towels to start mopping up the blood on the floor and the wall.

“I’m scared I’m gonna miss something.”

There was a long silence as Ned finished cleaning up the blood and threw out the paper towels.

“How do you think you did on the physics test?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t know. I knew my stuff, but I just don’t know if it was the right stuff. My head’s all fuzzy.”

“That’s fair, I guess. I’m gonna ask Jess if she can come with me to the hospital this afternoon.”

I realized I’d bled through all the paper towel wrapped around my hand. I threw the bloody ones out and got a handful of clean ones to press to my knuckles. “Yeah, I can imagine Jess is probably freaking out about all of this.”

“So am I,” Ned admitted.

“She’ll be okay.” I didn’t know if I was telling him the truth. I could almost still hear the erratic heartbeat from the monitor. It was very possible she wouldn’t be okay.

He hesitated. He definitely knew that I was full of crap. “You should go to the office and get some ice. Just so your hand doesn’t swell too much.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.”

**Hour Twelve - Peter**

So far, several nurses had come in and out. One asked me a couple questions about who I was to MJ, but none of them had told me to move or leave. I think they realized that MJ wanted me there, based on the way she was clinging to me.

Currently, we were both on our sides, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Her head was tucked under my chin. I could feel every breath she took across my neck.

For the most part, she’d been unconscious. She’d stirred a couple times, but never done more than mumbled something or adjusted how she was laying. It was fine. It gave me time to just hold her and cry.

Thank goodness nothing had changed, because I was scared to pull away from her to text Miles.

She stirred again, whimpering a little. She started to pull away from me, her face twisted in pain. I kissed her forehead, knowing that it used to comfort her when she woke up in the middle of the night.

MJ stilled, her face relaxing, and for a moment I thought she’d fallen back asleep.

Her eyes opened. They were still kind of glazed-looking, but she seemed a little more alert. It wasn’t the same the-lights-are-on-but-nobody’s-home feeling when you looked in her eyes. It was MJ, just MJ on a lot of drugs.

“You’re crying.” She reached up and wiped at my face. Her hand was colder than usual at first, and I flinched.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

She didn’t seem to be paying attention. She focused on wiping my face dry with her thumbs, and then kept her hands on my face. She held eye contact with me for a few seconds, and I was trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Before I could, she kissed me. It was just a short, soft peck, but it was still a kiss. 

She pulled away and adjusted again, so she was laying the same way she was before.

MJ, my ex-girlfriend, who’d hated me up until last month, just kissed me.

Part of me felt guilty, like I’d taken advantage of her when she wasn’t quite herself, but she’d kissed me, not the other way around.

She fell back to sleep, and I cried again, holding her tight and wishing things could go back to the way they used to be.

**Hour Thirteen – Miles**

I sat on the ground in front of my locker, going through photos of MJ on my phone. I wondered which one they’d show at her funeral.

“Morales.”

I turned to see a teacher looking at me. Specifically, my old biology teacher, Mr. Pike.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

I didn’t move.

“Do you have a hall pass?”

“My answer to your last question would’ve been different if I did.”

“Funny as always, Morales. Which room would you like detention in today?”

Oh, shit. I couldn’t do detention. I had to go back to the hospital, I had to see MJ.

“Which room number did y’all put on the front door?”

I don’t know why I wasn’t just explaining to the dude that, hey, the person I consider my sister is in the hospital, potentially dying, and I’m sitting on the ground going through pictures I think they might show at her funeral because I cannot stand to be in a class, talking about things as benign as sinusoidal graphs.

Mr. Pike squinted at me. “Stand up and face me.”

I sighed, getting to my feet, closing my locker, and turning to look at him. He stepped closer to me.

“Have you been crying?”

I figured he was about to start mocking me, so I took a breath, mentally preparing myself. “Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

I wondered if I could even say it out loud without breaking down. “Do you know who Michelle Jones is?”

He nodded.

“She’s been my best friend since we were five. She practically lives with me. I consider her family. And, currently, she’s in the hospital, dying, because her mom’s boyfriend drugged her.”

Mr. Pike blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He looked away, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Go home, son.”

“I-I have a math class.” Who was I? Who says that when a teacher makes the educated decision to send you home?

He gave me a weird look, then said, “Alright. Do what you want.” He turned and left.

I didn’t quite know how to react. I kinda just…stood there for a few seconds, staring at the wall, then I shrugged to myself, and went back to class.

**Hour Fourteen – Peter**

When Ned and Jessie walked in, I started to pull away from MJ to say hi to them, but that woke up MJ. She groaned, frowning, her eyes still closed, and wrapped her arms tighter around my neck.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Here, let me just-”

I shifted us, so I was on my back, and her head was on my shoulder. She readjusted how she was laying, then fell asleep. During this whole interlude, Ned and Jess sat down.

“It’s good that she’s waking up, I guess,” Ned said, struggling to find a silver lining.

Jessie looked terrified. She was gripping Ned’s hand so hard her knuckles were paper white, and she was gnawing on her bottom lip.

“Did anybody tell you what the chances are she’ll…survive?” Ned asked.

Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arms tighter around her. “I don’t know. I haven’t really been paying much attention. All I know is what she was drugged with.”

Jessie was looking at the monitor. “I don’t know a lot about what that’s supposed to look like, but that looks bad.”

“Yeah.”

Ned leaned forward. “Are the chances good or bad?”

I didn’t wanna say it. I didn’t want to admit that she’d likely be dead by the end of the day. I just shook my head.

“Oh, Peter,” Jessie consoled.

My eyes prickled.

“Did she…ask you to lay there with her?” Jessie asked, voice soft and gentle.

“Yeah. She said she was cold.”

Jessie half-smiled. “She definitely just wanted you to hold her.”

Ned and Jessie stayed for a couple more hours, but eventually had to leave. Harry and Miles got back just before Ned and Jessie left, and they talked for a bit. The second they weren’t talking to me, though, I was focused on MJ.

Every time I looked at her, all I could think was that I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t let her die. But this wasn’t a Spider-Man thing. I couldn’t swoop in and web somebody up and save her. I was helpless. The girl I loved lay dying, slowly, in my arms, and I was completely and utterly helpless.

**Hour Nineteen – Harry**

Peter and MJ were both asleep. Miles was dozing off in a chair next to the bed.

I couldn’t sleep.

Before I’d come back to the hospital, I swung by my place and picked up a pair of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajama pants. A day or two ago I’d texted MJ and asked if she wanted them, and I told her I’d give them to her the next time I saw her.

It was less for her and more for me. It might’ve been some weird, morbid, final gift thing. Or maybe I just liked the idea of her wearing them because she’d have to be alive for that.

That was all I wanted. I wanted her to wake up and be alive and look around with those big eyes, clear and alert. I didn’t want to see that glazed over look in her eyes. That scared me shitless.

We were five hours away from the twenty-four hour mark. If her vitals didn’t start to perk up, she might not ever get better.

I needed her to get better. I needed that so desperately. She was the first person I told about my feelings for Connor. She was always the first person I could trust with any of my feelings. MJ was incredible like that. You could talk to her about anything, and she was never judgemental or scared off or anything. When my dad went to jail, and I was irrationally scared to be home alone in that house, MJ just let me stay over for as long as I needed. No questions asked. I needed her.

I needed her big, goofy laugh, and her carefree demeanor, and her shitty puns and dumb sexual innuendos. I needed that. She made everything a little easier, a little more fun, a little more enjoyable.

Five hours. She had five hours to start to get better, but she still looked pale and colourless as she laid on Peter’s chest.

I wondered if in five hours she’d be cracking a joke about how worried I looked, or if we’d be listening to a long beep.

**Hour Twenty-Two – Miles**

Her breathing was still shallow and uneven, she hadn’t woken up in hours, and her heartbeat was still erratic.

Mom came for a few hours in the evening, but she couldn’t take time off work, so eventually she went home and went to bed. I’d almost had to push her out the doors. She wanted so badly to stay, but I made her go. She couldn’t go to work on no sleep. At least I had the option of skipping school.

Peter slept on and off for a few hours, but right now, he was awake, holding MJ tight. As much as I was angry that he’d hurt her, he really loved her, and he really cared, and I knew he hadn’t let her go for a second all day. I couldn’t bring myself to stay angry about it anymore.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I owe you an apology.”

He frowned. “What for?”

“I’m sorry I was angry at you for breaking up with MJ. And for punching you. And for being pretty cold to you since the breakup.”

Peter shook his head. “I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t, and I’m sorry for all of it.”

Peter didn’t meet my eyes. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

I looked over at Harry, almost looking for an explanation. Harry just shrugged, looking pretty apathetic. I guess we were all too tired to care.

The room fell silent again, save for the erratic beeping of the EKG.

**Hour Twenty-Three – Peter**

She was cutting it close. Her vitals hadn’t picked up at all, and we were nearing the twenty-four hour mark. I found myself holding her tighter and tighter, like if I squeezed her hard enough, she could leave me. She couldn’t die.

Midnight neared, and with every minute that passed, I grew more and more fearful that I’d be saying goodbye to her soon.


	23. Nov. 6th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 153-156 (starts with Run, ends with You'll Be Okay)  
> Once again, playlist curated by @itslizzyallan :)  
> Hope y'all brought tissues for this one :')

**Hour Twenty-Four – Miles**

A doctor came in a checked her vitals, then asked which one of us was family. Without thinking about it, I said, “Me.”

He gestured for me to join him outside, so I got up and left the room, then stood outside the door with him.

“What’s your relation to Miss Jones?” the doctor, Dr. Turner, asked.

“I’m, um, she’s not technically- we grew up together, my mom and I are on her emergency contacts list and everything, but I’m not legally related to her,” I explained.

“Have any of her legal relatives visited her since she was admitted?”

I shook my head.

He glanced back into the room, then looked at me again. “I just want you to know the potential outcomes. It’s been twenty-four hours, and she hasn’t improved. The longer her vitals stay this low, the smaller her chances are of walking away from this. That said, it’s not impossible. She’s been waking up, and she’s surprisingly lucid, and those are good things. However, it’s very possible that she’ll have permanent side effects. Learning disability, memory loss, nothing fun, but nothing completely disabling.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. I understand.”

Dr. Turner gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know this isn’t easy to hear. It’s never easy knowing-”

I cut him off. “It’s fine. You’re just doing your job.”

“I’ll send in a nurse to draw more blood, just so we can see where she’s at.”

I nodded, then went back into the room and sat down next to Harry again.

MJ was still out cold. She hadn’t moved in hours, and her vitals still looked awful.

Between the two of us, she was always the one telling me not to give up. She sat next to me by the pool at Jessie’s birthday party, telling me I couldn’t put my life on hold because of Cindy, that I couldn’t let my fears stop me from having a good time.

But this was different. When Cindy went missing, I wasn’t so acutely aware of her wellbeing. I could make any assumptions I’d wanted to. When she came back and she was in the hospital, it wasn’t life-or-death.

This was.

**Hour Twenty-Five – Harry**

She still wasn’t moving. You couldn’t see any evidence of life on her anymore. Her breathing was so shallow, her ribs didn’t expand.

I still couldn’t sleep, either. I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off of her. All I could think about was what ifs. What if she never woke up? What if I never got to say goodbye to her? What if I never got to give her the pajama pants?

What if I never got to see her smile or laugh again? What if I never got to see her roll her eyes at me again?

What if she and Peter never got the chance to properly work things out? What if I never got to see them together again? What if she died and Peter was still in love with her? What if I had to watch him grieve the love of his life, or watch Miles mourn his sister?

What if there was no good outcome? What if she survived, but she had brain damage? What if she survived this, only to get hurt worse when she inevitably went back home? What if we went through all of this, got to experience the relief of her surviving, but it happens again and none of us are fast enough? What if she doesn’t call? What if one day, we wake up, and we just never see her again?

“Harry,” Peter whispered.

I looked up. “Yeah?”

“You look stressed.”

I glared at him. “Gee, really?”

Peter sighed. “Stop trying to break the arms off that chair.”

I looked down. I was gripping the arms so tight, my knuckles were white. I let go and massaged my hands. “Thanks.”

Peter nodded. I watched as he turned his attention back to MJ. He pushed a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

She didn’t move.

I’d expected her to stir slightly, make a noise, shift, take a deeper breath, anything.

But she was as still as ever.

Hour Twenty-Eight – Peter

She stayed completely still for hours, the only signal that she was still alive the shallow breaths I could feel on my neck and the uneven beeping of the EKG.

Then, out of nowhere, she started to whimper.

As far as I could tell, she was still asleep, but she sounded uncomfortable. She curled up a little more, bringing her knees up closer to her stomach.

“What’s she doing?” Miles asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Is she awake?”

“No. She’s still unconscious, I think.”

She gripped me tighter, fingers grasping at the fabrics of my shirt and balling it up in fists. Her face twisted up in pain.

“Call a nurse,” I told Miles, trying to keep my voice from cracking or breaking. I was scared. I wanted to tell myself that this was good, because she was waking up, but something was off.

Miles found the “call nurse” button on the bed and hit it a few times, then stood next to the bed.

She curled up more, hunching her back. She wasn’t breathing anymore, but I could hear her gasping.

Harry leaned forward and pulled something out from under the bed.

“Peter, turn her over.”

“What?”

“There’s a bucket here, and she looks like she might be about to puke, so turn her over!”

I had to pull her hands off of me, which seemed to make her more distress.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

I turned her over, and barely managed to pull back her hair before she started to throw up. I held her hair back with one hand, and wrapped my other arm around her waist, holding her so she didn’t fall off the bed.

I hated hearing this. She sounded like she was in pain.

A nurse came in, then saw what was happening, and came over. He started to tell me to move away, but MJ grabbed the arm that was wrapped around her waist, and he shut it.

“I’ll grab another bucket and some ice chips for her.”

I held her tight. She stopped retching for a second, and started to mumble something, then leaned over again and kept puking.

The nurse brought in a clean bucket, a damp cloth, and put a plastic cup of ice chips on a table next to the bed, then turned to me.

“Make sure she has some.”

I nodded.

When she stopped the next time, she stayed leaned over for a few minutes, like she was scared she was going to throw up again.

Harry smacked Miles’ arm. “Look,” he said, pointing at the EKG.

Her vitals were looking better. Her heartbeat was stronger and steadier, and her blood oxygen was starting to rise.

“Miles,” she croaked.

I started to let go, thinking maybe she didn’t want me to be holding her right now, but she put her hand back on my arm, so I stayed.

Miles switched out the buckets and then kneeled in front of her.

“I’m right here.”

“It hurts,” she said softly. I could hear the pain in her voice. I fought back tears.

“I know. It’s okay. You’ll start feeling better soon.”

I passed him the damp cloth, and he wiped at her forehead, then around her mouth.

“What if I don’t?”

“MJ-”

“It hurts so bad.”

Miles looked absolutely shattered. He took a breath, then said, “You just can’t give up, chica.”

MJ leaned back into me. I started to pull away, so I could turn her onto her back and sit her up and feed her ice chips, but she resisted.

“MJ, I’m not leaving,” I assured her.

She tilted her head back to look at me. Her eyes weren’t glazed over anymore.

“Good.”

“Can you let me move you?”

She gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She was finally acting like herself again, even if only a little.

I pulled away from her, then hit a button on the side of the bed that brought half of it up, so she could lean against the bed in a sitting position. Harry helped her sit up while I grabbed the ice chips.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“The nurse told me to make sure you eat these,” I told her, sitting down on the bed, close enough that I could feed her.

“There is no way I’m letting you spoon-feed me,” she said. “I may be dying but I’m not pathetic.

I flinched. Even Harry and Miles flinched.

I handed her the cup. She reached out to grab it, but her hand was shaking with effort. She dropped it.

“Fine. None of you can ever mention this.”

Harry and Miles were both smirking.

She let me feed her the whole cup, but the more time that passed, the less alert she seemed. Her eyes glazed over again, her vitals dropped, and she stopped speaking.

I got up to put the empty cup in the trash, then moved to sit down next to her bed.

“Peter.”

I looked up and saw her looking at me, patting the spot next to her on the bed.

“MJ, I-”

“Please.”

I glanced at Harry, maybe looking for support or just a little bit of encouragement. He wasn’t looking at me, though, he was staring at the monitor.

“I-I- okay.”

I gave in, laying next to her again. She laid her head on my chest and fell asleep again.

**Hour Thirty – Harry**

MJ couldn’t stay asleep this time. She’d doze off, then wake up with a start, and then doze off again. I wondered if she was having nightmares, or if she was just in too much pain to stay asleep.

Miles’ mom came by before work. MJ woke up and turned over, away from Peter, to say hi to Mama Morales.

I saw the way Miles’ mom’s hands trembled when she touched MJ. She knew exactly what all of us knew. That MJ was still fighting for her life.

When Mama Morales left, MJ cuddled up with Peter again and they both fell asleep.

Miles managed to sleep a bit, too, but I still couldn’t. I couldn’t stop hearing her voice.

_“It hurts so bad.”_

She was alert enough now that she was in pain. I didn’t know if that was better or worse.

**Hour Thirty-Two – Miles**

Peter managed to convince Harry and I to go to school for the second day in a row. I don’t know how I let him talk me into leaving, but I did.

I told myself that this was good, that it’d get my mind off of things, but I spent the whole day worried, or talking to our friends.

I checked my phone every thirty seconds, making sure I hadn’t missed an update from Peter.

Nothing.

That was good. That meant she wasn’t getting worse.

It didn’t mean that she was getting better, though.

**Hour Thirty-Five – Harry**

Connor had been grounded and wasn’t allowed to visit the hospital yesterday, but today he didn’t seem to care. He met me at the front of the school.

“Are we going?” he asked, fidgeting with the string on his hoodie.

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

I let him drive, since MJ had told him that I was a bad driver. I was fine with it. If I didn’t have to have my eyes on the road, I could have them on Connor instead.

When we walked into MJ’s room, MJ and Peter were both awake and chatting. He was still sitting on the bed with her, but they weren’t snuggled up together like before. MJ looked pretty alert.

“Hey, what did I miss?” I asked.

“Nothing much,” Peter said. “Actually I’m glad you guys are here, because I’m starving but I didn’t want to leave MJ alone, so I’m gonna run down to the cafeteria.”

He said something softly to MJ, and she nodded, then he got up and walked past Connor and I, out of the room.

“Hey.”

I noticed MJ’s arms were wrapped around her midsection. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

Connor and I sat down next to her bed, and the three of us talked for a while. At first, Connor was asking questions, but soon realized that MJ’s memory of the last day and a half was pretty rocky.

“How do you feel now?”

She shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“MJ.”

She sighed. “You know that feeling when you’ve had a couple drinks, and you’re not really feeling it yet, but you know you’re about to?”

Connor and I nodded.

“That, but add a lot of burning pain under your skin.”

I frowned. “Did you talk to a doctor about it?”

“They offered me more painkillers, but they told me they’d make me drowsy, and I don’t really think I need more drugs in my system anyways.”

Connor nodded.

“Did you get the blood test results back?”

She pointed at a folder that was sitting on Miles’ chair. Connor picked it up and passed it to me.

“They said the drug levels in my system were down, but not down enough, whatever that means.”

I looked up at her, concerned. Before I could ask another question, Connor said, “You seem pretty alert.”

“It kind comes and goes. There’s, like, ten minutes where I feel fine, then ten minutes where I barely know my name.”

That didn’t seem to calm Connor’s fears.

We talked for another twenty minutes, during which we saw MJ lose her alertness and gain it back, and then Connor got a call from his dad. He stepped out of the room to take it, so I couldn’t make out words, but he sounded distressed.

MJ leaned forward and said quietly, “When are you gonna make a move on him?”

I shushed her. “I don’t even know how he feels about me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so dense.”

“Am not!”

Connor came back in, just as MJ was about to say something, but she shut her mouth when she saw the frown on his face.

“I have to go home,” Connor said. “Apparently, your friend dying in hospital is not a good enough reason to skip class.”

He went over to MJ and hugged her, then said goodbye to me, then walked out.

MJ turned to me. “Do you really think I’m dying?”

“Do you feel like you are?” I countered.

Her arms wrapped around her midsection again. “Yeah, kind of.”

I stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder.

It wasn’t cold at all.

“On a scale of one to ten, what’s your pain like?”

“Seven, maybe.”

“MJ, that’s-”

“I know. It’s only bad when I can think clearly. But I want to be able to think, so I don’t want the morphine or whatever.”

“You said seven. That’s bad, MJ.”

“I know.”

Peter came back into the room. “Sorry, they wouldn’t let me back into this wing with my food. Did I miss Connor completely?”

MJ nodded.

“I still need to introduce myself to that guy,” he muttered, coming back over and sitting with MJ on the bed again. I felt like I was intruding on them, so I moved back to my chair.

“Can you please tell her to just ask for some painkillers?”

He gave a defeated half-shrug. “I’ve tried.”

“Hey! I have spent the last thirty-six-ish hours being completely out of it. Excuse me if I want some semblance of brain function. I don’t like being loopy like that.”

“You know, there are people who use GHB as a recreational drug,” I said.

“Yeah, well, I don’t fucking know why. It doesn’t feel good.”

Peter slid an arm around MJ, and she visibly relaxed, leaning into him.

It was like they were together again, but I knew they weren’t. There was something off. MJ was leaning into Peter like she always had, but she wasn’t as open with him now. You could almost see the secrets between them.

**Hour Thirty-Nine – Miles**

Mom and I came back to the hospital. Harry was already here, and just like before, Peter had barely left her side.

Right now, she was curled up in the fetal position as Peter stroked her hair. She wouldn’t accept any painkillers, but she was struggling to cope. Her vitals were dropping again, back to where they were yesterday. I was terrified. It had looked like she was getting better, and now she was slipping again. I’d gotten my hopes up only to realize that she’d temporarily felt better.

Every few minutes, she’d mumble or whimper, and Peter would just whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Weren’t we all.

**Hour Forty – Harry**

It didn’t seem to be getting better. MJ was still struggling with the pain. She finally accepted some painkillers, but it didn’t seem to help at all. She was still in the fetal position, still struggling to pull through.

After watching her suffer for a while, Mama Morales stood up and leaned over her, hand on her shoulder.

“You can let go. It’s okay.”

MJ turned to look at her, and I’d never seen her look so drained and defeated.

“You don’t want me to.”

“Of course not, baby, but you’re suffering. You don’t have to keep fighting.” Miles’ mom had the smoothest, most soothing voice in the world.

I looked over at Miles and saw tears falling down his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore, MJ. You’ve been through a lot. If you’re tired of fighting, you don’t have to anymore.”

MJ took a breath, then stretched out, moving away from Peter. She spoke quietly to Mama Morales for a moment, and it felt private, so I didn’t try to listen.

When she was done, Mama Morales sat down, tears streaming down her face. MJ looked at Miles, so he got out of his chair and knelt next to the bed.

“All you have to do is tell me to stay, and I will,” MJ said.

Miles held her hand, running his thumb over it. “I can’t do that, MJ. I want you to be okay, and if I have to lose you for that…then okay.”

MJ gave him a half-smile. “Thank you.”

She leaned in closer and said something else to him, then he nodded, kissed the top of her head, and sat down next to his mom again, putting his head on her shoulder as they cried together.

“Harry.”

I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I couldn’t say no. She was dying.

I knelt next to the bed, just like Miles had.

“Thanks for bringing me here, and paying the bills and everything. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

I couldn’t fight back tears anymore. They spilled out of my eyes and down my cheeks. “You didn’t waste my time, MJ. You didn’t.” I looked up at her. Her eyes were starting to lose their alertness. “I don’t wanna say goodbye,” I sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Don’t be.” I wiped my face, taking a breath. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She turned to Peter, who looked like he was fighting back tears.

“Can we get a moment alone?” she asked.

I nodded, standing and wiping my face again. Miles and his mom stood, too, and the three of us left the room.

**Hour Forty-One – Peter**

I couldn’t speak. I could barely sit there like that, watching her say goodbye to everyone. I didn’t know if I could handle her saying goodbye to me.

“Peter,” she said, turning to face me.

My throat closed up. I couldn’t handle losing her. I couldn’t do it.

“I’m really sorry. I’ve been a bit of an asshole to you for the last couple months, and you didn’t deserve that.”

I wanted to say that no, she had nothing to be sorry for, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth.

“I shouldn’t have gone off the grid as much as I did, or been as cold as I was, and I’m sorry, because that’s time we can’t gain back.”

I started to cry. We were out of time. I couldn’t fix things between us now. I couldn’t tell her I was Spider-Man or-or tell her how I was still in love with her.

How had I messed up so bad?

“Peter, don’t cry, because I’ll cry,” she whispered. Tears were welling in her eyes.

I tried to say sorry, but I couldn’t get the air in enough to say it. I felt bad, because I was making this take longer, and she was in pain, but at the same time, I couldn’t let go.

She started to smile, just a little. “Do you remember that night at Tony’s gala? When we danced to Chasing Cars and almost kissed?”

I nodded. I remembered how it had felt that night. It had felt wonderful to dance with her, to have an excuse to hold her so close, to admire how gorgeous she was close up. How much I’d wanted to kiss her.

“Or the night we got drunk together after finals and we took that picture of me kissing your cheek?”

I nodded again, pressing my lips together, trying to stop crying, just long enough to tell her I loved her. I wanted to tell her that I remembered the whole night, despite pretending not to. I wanted her to know that, but I couldn’t get the words out.

“That’s still my favourite picture of us.”

She smiled again, her eyes sparkling with tears.

“I know I don’t act like it anymore, but I still love you. I love you so much.”

I pulled her into a hug, holding her as tight as I could and crying, hard. I didn’t want her to die. I didn’t want to fail her like this. I didn’t want to go to her funeral, or not see her at decathlon meetings, or miss her, every single day, for the rest of my life.

I breathed in, memorizing what she smelled like. I knew I’d end up going home and reading the letter she gave me for my birthday and spraying everything I owned with her perfume, but this was the last chance I’d ever get to hold MJ, and hear her voice, and smell exactly what she smelled like ever again. I didn’t want to let her go.

After a couple minutes, she started to pull away, and I thought that was it, but then she tilted her head and kissed me. Her lips were drier than usual, and she was shaking, but I didn’t want it to end, ever.

I could feel her whole body shaking with effort. Her fingers tangled in my hair, she pressed her body against mine, and she kissed me like her life depended on it. She was kissing me like she had when we were together, when I made her smile, or when we were drunk and it was just the two of us. Passionate. Like she wanted me more than anything else in the world.

I wanted to capture this moment and freeze it and live in it forever. And it hurt like hell that I couldn’t.

She pulled away, slowly, looking up at me, the corners of her lips turned up. I could see her eyes starting to glaze over. Desperately, I held her close, arms wrapped around her waist. She reached a hand up, brushing a piece of hair off my forehead, thumb running over my cheek to wipe away tears, and then her hand fell away, and her face relaxed, and her body went limp in my arms. I could hear the flatline ringing in my ears. I slowly lowered her body onto the bed. I couldn’t bring myself to close her eyes, despite the fact that there was no life in them anymore.

That was it. She was gone.

But then she shot up, and her heart was beating like crazy, and she leaned over the edge of the bed, grabbing the bucket and puking. I pulled her hair back, sobbing. I didn’t know what had done that, if there was a tiny spark left in her body that jump started her, but I couldn’t describe the kind of relief it was to see her moving and breathing, even if she was throwing up.

A doctor and a nurse came in, likely summoned by the flatline.

“If you’re not family, I have to ask you to leave.”

I didn’t argue, just got up and left.

I walked past Harry, Miles, and Mama Morales and found a quiet corner, then pulled out my phone and called Mr. Stark, sliding down the wall until I was sitting.

“Hey, kid, what- are you crying?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, my voice shaky.

“What’s going on?”

I started sobbing again. My throat hurt and my lungs burned, but I couldn’t stop crying.

Eventually, I managed to stop enough to tell him everything. The whole story, from the moment I arrived, to when I watched MJ flatline. When I got to the end of the story, I started crying again.

Mr. Stark didn’t say anything for a moment, then softly asked, “Are you near a window?”

I looked up at the wall. “Yeah.”

“I can’t come to the hospital, but I’m sending you something.”

“Mr. Stark, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, kid, but I think you need it.”

A gauntlet burst through the window, landing in my lap. I yelped as it did.

There was a long silence on Mr. Stark’s end, then he said, “So, I’m assuming the landing was a little rough.”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

The gauntlet flew up and hovered in front of me.

“What is it doing?”

“If I can’t be there to hold your hand, I can send a chunk of metal to. My god, who have I become? That’s not the point.”

I lifted my hand, and it flew forward into my hand. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. How are you feeling?”

“I feel a little better now,” I told him, sniffling.

“Good. I gotta go, but text me if you need anything, alright, kid?”

“Yeah. Thank you, again, Mr. Stark.”

“No problem.”

The line went dead.

I put my phone away, and realized the gauntlet had a pulse. One of the blasters was pulsing small amount of energy, in time with a heartbeat. To be more comforting, I guess.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, holding the gauntlet tight, and cried.

**Hour Forty-Three – Miles**

When Peter came back into the room, his whole face was pink, his eyes were puffy, and his voice was a little croaky.

He was handling this about as well as any of us.

MJ’s doctor had taken her away, so they could do an MRI on her, to make sure her brain wasn’t permanently damaged.

Mom and I were gripping each other’s hands tight. We’d heard the flatline from the hallway.

I had never felt so cold. I’d never felt the kind of cold that starts deep in your chest, and seeps through your bones and then spreads to your skin. I’d never felt the kind of aching despair that l felt in that moment. Like nothing would ever be okay again, like I’d never be happy again, like I couldn’t ever move on.

My nerves weren’t eased by the fact that she was alive. As far as I knew, she was barely holding on.

For fucks sakes, I was barely holding on. I was jumpy and scared and heartbroken.

“Why did I let her convince me to go home the first time?” I whispered to my mom.

“Don’t do this to yourself, baby. Don’t pin this on yourself.”

“She’s alive,” Harry said. “That’s more than we were hoping for.”

I hadn’t seen him this upset. Ever. I’d seen him angry, but never sad. It was strange. His shoulders came forward, his chin lowered, and if he’d had a tail, it would’ve been between his legs.

“Yeah.”

Peter was quiet, holding what looked like one of Iron Man’s gauntlets.

The door to MJ’s room opened, and she was wheeled back in by two nurses and her doctor.

“No permanent brain damage,” Dr. Turner said, smiling.

I let out a sigh of relief.

MJ still seemed a little out of it, but that was reasonable for somebody who was dead for a few seconds.

A nurse drew some blood, and then the two nurses and the doctor left.

“Hey,” she said, smiling. “So that didn’t stick.”

Harry snorted. “Fucking good it didn’t.”

“Geez, can you imagine if any of us actually had to live without her?” I added. Harry laughed again.

“Yeah, we’d all be dead by dawn.”

Peter was still quiet, still gripping the gauntlet. He wouldn’t meet MJ’s eyes.

“Peter? You okay?”

He sniffled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

MJ patted the spot next to her on the bed. He got up and sat down next to her, a couple tears falling down his face.

This felt private, and I felt like I should leave, but at the same time, I felt like by leaving I’d be turning it into something it wasn’t.

I just pulled out my phone and got rid of Google Classroom notifications instead.

When I looked back up, MJ was hugging Peter.

“Mind if I join?” I asked softly. MJ waved me over. Harry got up and joined in on the hug, too, and then Mom did.

I wondered what made MJ keep fighting for a brief, stupid second before it hit me.

Peter.

I don’t know what they’d said to each other when they were in the room alone, but I would bet my left kidney that he was at least part of the reason she didn’t fully let go.

The group hug eventually broke apart, and we sat back down.

**Hour Forty-Seven – Harry**

I was texting Connor updates, and at the end of the conversation, he begged me to get some sleep. I didn’t want to, because I still wasn’t sure of how fragile MJ’s health was, but I hadn’t slept in over seventy-two hours, and I was damn near delusional.

I went to the nurses station and asked for a cot, then complained to Connor about how uncomfortable the cot was, then put my phone away and curled up.

I hated the idea of potentially missing something, but I needed to sleep eventually.

At least Connor had promised me coffee tomorrow.

I glanced at the monitor one more time, then closed my eyes and drifted off.


	24. Nov. 7th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 157-158 (Lights Down Low and Mirrors)  
> Playlist curated by @itslizzyallan (y'all have no idea how much I appreciate her oh my god)  
> This one's short but it's a lot less painful than the last two :)

**Hour Forty-Eight – Peter**

I was thrilled that MJ was alive, and the doctors confirmed that she was going to live and she didn’t have permanent brain damage, but I was still shaken to my core.

_“I know I don’t act like it anymore, but I still love you. I love you so much.”_

Those could have been her last words.

I could still here the long _beeeeeeep_ in the back of my mind, like it had never stopped.

But she was okay. She was sitting here, holding my hand, smiling at me whenever we made eye contact.

I didn’t know if I could ever tell her that I was Spider-Man. I’d come so close to losing her, and I couldn’t risk putting her in danger.

I could almost still feel her lips on mine. I wanted that again. I wanted to be able to call her mine again.

I couldn’t, though. I couldn’t do that to her.

**Hour Fifty – Miles**

It was almost unreal. A few hours ago, she’d whispered her goodbye to me in my ear, and now she was sitting on the bed, almost back to normal. She said she was still in some pain, and she still felt a little off, but this was close enough for me.

I was so glad she was still here, smiling at Peter every so often, bugging me to grab her snacks out of her backpack that was sitting in the corner.

I was never going to let Brandon go near her again. That was a promise. I was never going to let him lay eyes on her again, let alone hands.

**Hour Fifty-Three – Harry**

I got in about four hours of sleep, which I guess was better than nothing. When I woke up, however, I stretched, since I was used to my big king sized bed at home, and fell right off the cot.

MJ waited until I went, “I’m fine,” then burst out laughing.

I just laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Miles came over and helped me up.

“You got too comfortable in your big-ass rich kid bed, didn’t you?”

I squinted at him. “Ha ha. Hilarious. My tailbone hurts.”

Miles snorted. “I hope you’re not expecting me to kiss it better.”

MJ high-fived him. I sat down in a chair again, lightly smacking MJ’s arm as I did.

“Hey! I just returned from the dead and you’re already smacking me around again?”

“Bitch of a world, ain’t it, Jones?”

MJ looked at Miles, exasperated. “I fought for my life for this shit?”

It was amazing how a room that had seemed so dreary and grey and grim twenty-four hours ago was now filled with laughter and life.

“Wait, Jones, I brought you something,” I said.

She looked at me, squinting. “I swear, if you pull something on me, I will-”

Before she could finish the sentence, I pulled the pajama pants out of her backpack. I’d shoved them in there when I’d brought them in, and I guess she just hadn’t opened the bad at all.

She grinned, her face lighting up. “They’re even more magnificent in person.”

Peter, who was still sitting on the bed with her, looked confused.

“I, um, I was cleaning out my closet and I asked her if she wanted them,” I explained.

Peter nodded.

I tossed them towards MJ. “Enjoy.”

She caught them, still grinning. “Ooh, they’re soft.”

The smile on her face almost made all the pain of the last couple days disappear. It was worth it all, just to see her okay again.

Man, I really didn’t know what I would’ve done without her.

**Hour Sixty – Miles**

Mom managed to get today off of work, so she went and got us more McDonald’s. MJ had literally ordered two Junior Chickens, large fries, and a large Diet Coke.

“Gee, feeling a little snacky?” I teased.

“Fuck off, Miles, I haven’t had anything to eat since Sunday evening.”

Mama Morales came back with huge bags full of food, and a drink tray.

“MJ, I got you the burgers plus an order of chicken nuggets, because you need some food in you.”

MJ laughed, accepting the food as Mom handed it to her. “Thanks, Mama Morales.”

“Anytime, baby.”

She handed me my burger and fries, then handed Harry his chicken nuggets and Peter his hashbrowns. She handed out drinks, then sat down next to me.

“How are you feeling?” she asked me.

I looked at MJ, who was taking a sip of her drink and gazing at Peter.

“Better. A lot better.”

“Do you know how much longer they’re holding her here?” Mom asked.

“Twelve hours. They said until midnight.”

She nodded. “She looks a lot better. There’s colour in her face again.”

“Yeah.”

It was almost like having whiplash. Yesterday, I was listening to her flatline. Today, I was watching her laugh and eat burgers.

I was good with this, though. This was exactly the kind of whiplash I wanted. The kind where she bounces back so fast, it throws me off my rhythm.

**Hour Sixty-Three – Peter**

Sometimes I looked at her and all I could do was admire her. Today was one of those days, where I looked at her and saw pure strength and bravery.

She’d be a much better superhero than I was. She rarely panicked, she was brave and resilient. Plus, she wasn’t the kind of person people would be disappointed to find out was under the mask. I was boring under it all, just some nerdy kid who watched too much Star Wars with his best friend. MJ was…amazing. She was artistic and creative and intelligent.

And imagine taking off the mask to see someone that beautiful underneath.

I remembered the dangerous situations I’d been in. My fight with Liz’s dad. Getting stabbed when I was looking for Cindy. I wanted to keep MJ as far away from that as possible.

I hated that I had to keep her at arm’s distance just to keep her safe. I wanted her so bad. I wanted to feel like I used to, when we woke up together or I got to spend whole days alone with her or I got to take her on dates and make her smile. Happy. In love.

Being in love with her used to feel good. Now it just hurt.

**Hour Sixty-Eight – Harry**

We started to clean up the room in preparation of MJ getting discharged. We packed up MJ’s backpack, and Mama Morales took it down to her car. We cleaned out McDonald’s wrappers and cups.

MJ still wasn’t allowed to take the IV out or change out of the nightgown, but she was allowed to stand up and walk, so the three of us took turns helping her walk again. At first, she was really shaky, since she hadn’t walked in a few days. But she got stable really quickly. She kept pacing, though, maybe just grateful to not be confined to a bed.

This was where it started to feel real. Like she was genuinely okay, and going home, and everything would be fine. Her blood test results were fine, her vitals hadn’t dipped since yesterday, everything was okay.

Everything was okay.

**Hour Seventy-One – Miles**

Over the course of the day, everyone who hadn’t visited MJ yet, except for Liz, made time to come by and check in on her. I could see how it stung MJ, even though she hadn’t admitted it. She thought that Liz still cared about her, but this was kind of the final blow. Jessie had come over with some snacks, though, and that seemed to cheer MJ up. She probably needed a girl around for a bit. There was a lot of testosterone in the room.

A nurse came in, and took the IV out of her arm, told her she wasn’t allowed to have any alcohol or non-prescription drugs for at least two days, and then put a clipboard with the discharge forms on the bed. They still wouldn’t accept the forms until midnight, but she was allowed to change into her normal clothes and fill them out and everything.

I gave her one of my shirts to wear, and then we all left the room so she could change. When we came back in, she was wearing a plain white t-shirt that was far too big for her slim frame, and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajama pants.

She was smiling, and that made me smile. She looked like herself again.

**Hour Seventy-Two – MJ**

I still had a couple forms left to fill out when midnight hit, but I was feeling overwhelmed and couldn’t focus.

“Hey, um, can I- can I get a moment alone?” I asked.

“Of course,” Mama Morales said. “I’ll go down to the parking lot and get the car all warmed up.” She got up and left.

Harry and Miles stood.

“We’ll be right outside the room,” Miles told me, giving my hand a squeeze before he left.

Peter stood to go, then looked at me.

“MJ, you’re shaking.”

I looked at the pen in my hand. “Yes, I am. Huh.”

Peter gestured to the spot next to me on the edge of the bed. “Do you mind if I-”

“Go ahead.”

He sat down next to me. I was very aware of the inch of space between his leg and mine. “What’s going on?”

I snorted. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Wherever you want to.”

God, I hated when he used that voice. It was soft and comforting, and impossible to deflect. I couldn’t shrug him off or push him out without feeling guilty. He just wanted to help.

I sighed, giving in.

“Nothing from the last couple days feels real. I don’t feel connected to it at all, and it’s all blurry and disjointed and disorienting, and I can’t make sense of anything that’s happened.”

Peter scooted closer, closing that inch of space between us, then put his hand on my leg, right above my knee. I was expecting it to feel awkward or weird, but it didn’t. It felt natural.

“Yeah, I can imagine. It was disorienting enough for me, and I had a clear head.”

“I still feel like I’m not-not solidly in my body,” I admitted. “It feels almost like I’m floating just an inch above the ground or something. I don’t really know how to describe it. When I woke up the first time, and I asked you if you were staying, I couldn’t hear myself saying it. I didn’t know if I’d actually said it. I just waited for you to react. But then when you answered I could hear you, and it was clear but it felt…distant. I just- I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“No, I get what you mean,” Peter said, in that same soft, soothing voice. “Almost like you’ve been possessed or something.”

“Yeah, like that. And I still feel…woozy, I guess. Not as dizzy or nauseous or anything, but it’s hard to read and I don’t feel like I’m processing it properly.” I looked up from the form in my lap to look at Peter, but he was already looking at me, and our faces were a lot closer than I’d anticipated. “What if I’m not out of the woods? What if something goes horribly wrong when I’m at home or at Miles’ and I just…die?”

“That’s not going to happen. Besides, yesterday you-you ki- you were ready to let go.”

I remembered kissing him goodbye. I remembered the tears running down his face when I pulled away, and running my thumb over his cheekbone. Love like the love we had was worth living for. I didn’t know if we’d ever had that again, but I couldn’t let go just yet.

I remembered thinking that, and then turning over and throwing up.

“I know.”

“You weren’t scared at all,” he whispered, his voice shaky, like he was about to cry.

“Yes, I was. Why do you think I couldn’t let go?”

“I don’t know.”

My gaze dropped from his chocolate brown eyes to his lips. I found myself leaning forward, and stopped, halfway there, finding the strength to pull away before I fucked things up even more.

Before I could, Peter closed the rest of the space between our lips.

Soft and slow. Soft and slow. Soft and slow.

I didn’t want to die.

All at once, things seemed to snap into place. I could feel everything with perfect clarity. His hand on my knee, the other sliding around my neck, his lips on mine. It didn’t feel dull or distant. It was clear and sharp and here and fucking _finally_. I didn’t feel like I wasn’t in my own body. I was here. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and the soft, slow kisses, and the tension leaving my shoulders.

I was in love with him. I didn’t have a say in it. My heart had latched on months ago and it wasn’t ready to let go.

Slowly, we pulled apart.

I watched Peter carefully, trying to gauge his reaction.

He pressed his lips together, then said, “Do you- do you want me to read it out to you? The form. Since you were, um, you were having a hard time reading it.”

I blinked. “Oh. Sure. Thank you.”

I handed him the clipboard, then closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder as he read out everything on the forms for me. When he finished and handed the forms back to me so I could sign them, my hands weren’t shaking anymore.

I signed the forms and set the clipboard behind us on the bed. He got up and headed for the door.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um, thank you. For staying, for laying with me, for holding me when I was sick, for reading to me-”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you, MJ.” He offered his hand and helped me up.

“I, also, I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I really love your voice?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I just kind of noticed it when you were reading. I like your voice.”

“You said you loved it. What is the truth?” he teased. I smacked his shoulder, and he feigned pain. “You’re evil.”

I laughed. “Do you remember that big dick energy quiz we all took over the summer? I vowed to use my big dick energy for evil, you vowed to use yours for good?”

He grinned. “I do. And I stand by that.”

We left the room, and I joined Miles.

“You ready to head back to my place?”

I nodded. “Always.”

I gave Harry and Peter hugs, then followed Miles to Mama Morales’ car and got in.

I touched my lips. Shit sucked, but damn, I was happy to be alive.


	25. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 159-172 (Unsteady - River)  
> Nov. 23rd is from Liz's POV :)

**November 9 th **

Mama Morales and Miles had convinced me to stay home from school on Thursday, but I was stressed about falling behind, so I went on Friday. Unfortunately, all my books were at my mom’s place, and I knew I’d have to go get them after school.

I knew I didn’t have to worry about Murphy, because Connor had managed to pick him up and was keeping him until I could go home again, so that was one less thing to stress about, but I still had to go back and get my stuff.

I was still feeling a little off, but I figured I’d be okay enough to go pick up my stuff, as long as I was fast.

I texted Mama Morales so she knew where I was, and then after last block, I headed out.

The closer I got to my apartment building, the antsier I got. Brandon had drugged me, probably just so he could’ve done exactly the same thing he’d done to me before. If he was still there, I didn’t know if I’d be able to hold it together.

When I got home, I made a beeline for my room. I saw my books and the backpack I used for school sitting on my desk, where I left them. I started to pack my stuff up, and then heard, “Michelle?”

I panicked. It was my mom’s voice, not Brandon’s, but she hadn’t heard from me since Sunday, and I couldn’t imagine she’d be happy.

“Yeah?”

“Come out into the living room.”

I put the last couple books in my back, zipped it up, and took a step out of my door.

James was sitting on the couch, holding a beer bottle. He didn’t look happy. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him happy.

“Where have you been all week?” Mom demanded.

“I-I was in the hospital.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I was unconscious for most of it. Besides, if I’d told you, would you have done anything?”

“Hey,” James interrupted, “don’t speak to your mother that way.”

It was funny. I thought James would scare me more, considering he once smashed a plate over my back, but I was just angry.

“It’s just a question. Mom, would you have cared even the tiniest amount that your daughter was dying in the hospital?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Michelle.”

“I flatlined on Tuesday.”

“Yet you seem fine now.”

I bristled. “I’m only fine now because everybody but you cared about me. Harry’s the one who made sure everything was taken care of, so I don’t have to worry about health insurance or paying off medical bills. Peter did not leave my side the whole time I was there unless he absolutely had to. Miles and his mom were my emergency contacts. I’m sure they called you, too, because I’ve been to that hospital before and they have me on file, so tell me why you didn’t come.”

James smashed his beer bottle on the coffee table, creating jagged edges that he pointed at me. “Your mother’s been very busy.”

“Too busy for her own dying child?”

James started to step threateningly towards me.

I booked it. I ran back into my room, slamming the door shut, grabbed my backpack, and climbed out the window. James was opening the door to my room as I got out onto the fire escape.

“Get back here, Michelle!”

I could go up to the roof, and pray that the door to the stairwell up there was unlocked, but risk getting trapped. Or I could go down to the street, meaning I’d have to go back into the front door of the building to get down to the garage so I could drive back to Miles’.

I didn’t want to risk being trapped on a roof with that man, so I started running down the stairs. The weight of the bookbag was interfering with my balance, so I had to go slower that I normally would. I didn’t check behind me until I got to the bottom of the fire escape. James was a good fifteen seconds behind me. I tried to lower the ladder, but it was stuck. I shook it, kicked it, did whatever I could to loosen it up so it’d drop.

I turned to see where he was. He was getting closer, and I had maybe a few seconds.

I took my hands of the ladder, ready to raise them in surrender, when a flash of white hit James and stuck him to the side of the building.

It was webbing.

I looked over to see Spider-Man swinging onto the fire escape.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. It was Peter’s voice, but I pretended not to notice.

“Yeah,” I huffed, trying to catch my breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Here, I’ll-I’ll help you down. Um, give me your backpack.”

I took it off my shoulders and handed it to him. He webbed it, then slowly lowered it to the ground.

“The, um, the webbing dissolves after about two hours.”

He held out an arm.

“What?” I asked.

“Hold onto me,” he said. Yeah, that was definitely Peter. Last month, when he’d brought me home at four in the morning, I’d thought I recognized his voice, but I figured I was overtired.

I stepped closer, and he slid his arm around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulder, then he used his free hand to shoot webs at the top of the fire escape.

“Okay, it’s just like being on one of those rollercoasters that lifts you up and then drops you, but a lot slower, so you have nothing to be scared about,” he assured me.

I nodded. He lifted us up, swung us over the railing, and lowered us to the ground.

Free-swinging from nothing but a string of webbing was objectively scary. I found myself gripping him just a little too tight.

“Sorry,” I whispered, resting my forehead against the side of his head as we landed on the ground.

“It’s okay.”

I forgot myself for a second, staying there to catch my breath. His arm was still wrapped tight around my waist. For a split second, I thought about lifting the mask, just so he didn’t have to tell me, but we were on a sidewalk now, and I didn’t want to out him to all of Queens.

After a moment, I let go, stepping back.

“Sorry,” I mumbled again, picking up my backpack. “Sorry if I hurt you.”

“You didn’t, it’s fine. Do you- do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“You’ve, um, got somewhere to go, right?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m all set.”

“Great. Have a good day, ma’am.”

He shot webbing at another building and shot off.

I didn’t get to thank him.

I went back into the building through the front doors, went down to the garage, and got in my car.

What a fucking week.

I drove back to Miles’, walked into the apartment, dropped my bag in the guest room, and then collapsed on the couch.

“I saw your texts,” he said from the kitchen. He came over, bringing me a cup of tea. “Did James hurt you at all?”

“No, Spider-Man got there before he did.”

“Isn’t this your second encounter with Spider-Man in, like, a month?”

I shrugged. “I guess.” I took a sip of the tea, and proceeded to burn my tongue. “I gotta text Tony and ask him to thank Spidey for me, since I didn’t really get a chance to.”

“I still can’t believe you’re on a first name basis with an Avenger.”

“You can’t believe it, or you’re jealous?” I teased, pulling out my phone to text Tony.

“Bit of both.”

He went back into his room. I stayed on the couch, texting Tony.

Me: hey uh so I had this weird encounter with Spider-Man but I kinda realized that I never thanked him and it’s pretty hard to thank someone when you don’t actually know who they are and anyways this is my very long winded way of saying can you thank him for me?

Tony: I’ll be sure to pass it onto him. Are you okay?

Me: yeah I’m fine

Me: I’m a lot better than I would’ve been if spidey hadn’t shown up

Tony: What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.

Me: um it’s kind of long story but basically I was being chased down a fire escape by my mom’s shitty boyfriend and Peter webbed him to the side of the building and helped me down

Tony: Peter? Webbed him?

I reread my text.

Me: oh shit

Me: I meant spidey

Tony: What do you know MJ?

Me: Peter never actually told me anything

Me: I just kinda put it together that he’s Spider-Man

Tony: how’d you come to think that Peter Parker, the kid who owns a lightsaber, is Spider-Man?

We went back and forth for a while, me presenting all of the supporting evidence I had, and Tony trying to convince me that I was jumping to conclusions. But I knew I wasn’t. I’d heard his voice. I’d smelled his shampoo on the suit. It was him.

This went on for a while. Eventually, I was sick of it. I just wanted one straight answer from him.

Me: Why did Peter break up with me?

Tony: Alright

Tony: He wanted to keep you safe MJ.

Me: Safe from what?

Me: Safe from the kind of people who’d target Spider-Man?

Tony: Possibly.

Tony: They do work closely.

Me: How closely?

Me: Close enough for the suit to smell like peter?

Me: Because at that point I think I have to be jealous about Spider-Man cuddling my ex.

Tony: Why’d you take it in that direction.

Me: You said to think about other possibilities!

He then proceeded to dance around it, trying to hint that I was right without telling me about it. Again, I got fed up.

Me: I know you have to do this so you’re not giving anything away but oh my god I am so sick of everybody dancing around answers with me

Me: Nobody would tell me I was dying when I was in the hospital, nobody would tell me that yes, they were crying, and Peter still won’t tell me why he dumped me.

Tony: Oh my god Peter’s Spider-Man. Can you guys resolve this now and stop being angsty depressed teenagers already? I’m too old for this.

We kept talking for a while. I told him about Harry and I’s situation and how complicated everything was. He kept telling me to just sit down and talk to Peter about everything.

Me: You’re probably right.

Me: who am I to discredit iron man

Tony: Exactly. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.

Me: listen

Me: I’m allowed to not come to my senses in a reasonable amount of time right now I’m still recovering from a drug overdose

Tony: Just this once.

Something about Tony was so warm, even through text. You could almost feel the smile and the pat on the shoulder.

Me: thank you

Me: for everything

Tony: Anytime.

After that, I got a call from my mom saying that she was staying at James’.

“Miles?” I called.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna go to Connor’s and pick up Murphy.”

“Are you going home?”

“Yeah, Mom’s staying at James’ place tonight, I guess.”

I got up off the couch, finishing my tea and putting the mug in the sink. Miles came out of his room to talk to me.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

I shrugged. “I might ask Peter to come over. We have some stuff we need to sort out.”

Miles snorted. “You’re telling me. I had to watch him be all emo around you while you were unconscious.”

“Please, I saw you cry, you can’t tell me you were any better.”

Miles shrugged. “I’m not your ex-boyfriend. I also didn’t deadass make out with you that last day.”

My eyes went wide. I’d told him about the first and second kisses, but not the third.

“How did you know about that?”

“The door was open, idiot,” he teased. “I, uh, I saw that you two were having a private moment, but I didn’t want to close the door because I figured that’d be worse, so I kinda just stood there and blocked the view.”

“But you still saw the kiss?”

“I got curious! Y’all were whispering and shit.”

I laughed. “Fine, okay, I guess that’s fair.”

“You guys do seriously need to talk shit out. You’re clearly still in love with each other.”

I shrugged. “I don’t kn-”

“Yes, you do. You know you love him.”

I averted my eyes. “I don’t know if he loves me.”

Miles took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “MJ, get out of here and go talk to him right now before I smack some sense into you.”

“Damn, okay.”

I went and got my bag, gave him a hug before I left, and then drove home.

I didn’t know how to do this. What did I start with? Did I drop the “I’m sleeping with your best friend” bomb or the “I’ve known your secret identity for months” bomb first? What if it went badly?

I got home, then debated my decision, walking around the apartment, trying to figure out what to do.

My phone buzzed, notifying me that Peter had posted on Instagram. His caption was something about needing a distraction, so I said “fuck it” to myself and commented, asking him to come over.

He messaged me, we made some plans, and he came over.

While he was on his way over, I pulled two bottles of wine out of the cupboard. The situation reminded me a little bit of June, when he had stayed at my place after everyone else had left and we each drank a full bottle of wine.

I hoped that the wine was the liquid courage I needed it to be.

When he knocked on the door, and I opened it, he hugged me so suddenly and so tightly, I lost my breath.

“Peter,” I huffed.

“Sorry. I, um, saw the thing about Spider-Man and everything and- I don’t know, MJ, I was worried about you.”

I laughed, hugging him back. “I’m okay, dude. Everything’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t. MJ, I saw you flatline, like, three days ago.”

“Four.”

He pulled away. “Really?” he asked, a little annoyed with me.

“Hey, I’m just pointing out facts. But I’m fine, Peter, I promise.” I picked up the bottles of wine on the counter and handed him one. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do it.”

We uncorked the bottles, and sat down in the living room.

“Okay, so, what if we watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine, but every time Jake says ‘noice’, ‘smort’, or ‘cool’, we have to take a drink,” I suggested. I figured I needed at least a third of this bottle in me before I could actually tell him what I needed to tell him.

“If we watch the season four finale, we’re gonna have to get our stomachs pumped. But, yeah, I’m down.”

I laughed, then turned on the TV and started the show.

After the second episode, we were both halfway through our bottles and thoroughly drunk, so I turned off the TV, and shifted on the couch so I could face him better.

Before I could start to talk, he said, “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“But- but you were chased down a fire escape. That’s not okay.”

I shook my head. “I’ll be okay, Peter. I’ve had worse. You know that.” I took a gulp from my bottle of wine.

He stared at me, then looked down. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I won’t,” I lied. I knew I would. I knew that James was volatile and dangerous and I wasn’t safe there.

He scooted closer to me. “When you called Harry, you said something about being drugged ‘again’.”

I shrugged. “Dude, I was high. I don’t know what I said. I barely remember anything until…”

He frowned. “Until what?”

“Um, until, like, the middle of Monday, I think.” Until we kissed. I barely remember anything until we kissed.

He stared at me. “Is-is everything okay with your mom?”

“What?”

“Harry…he picked you up from here, didn’t he?”

“Peter, stop worrying about me.” I needed him to stop so I could tell him whatever I wanted to tell him. What was that, again?

“I- MJ, I-I watched you…die.”

“I’m still here, dude. I flatlined for, like, three seconds.” I turned my head, averting my eyes, and he put his hand on my face to turn it back to face him.

“Just- MJ, I couldn’t- I couldn’t speak. I had so much I wanted to tell you, and I couldn’t, and I just had to watch you die while I held you.”

“So tell me now,” I said.

His hand was still on my cheek, his eyes didn’t leave mine, but he didn’t say anything. He just held eye contact with me for a few seconds.

“Peter-”

Before I could ask him what he wanted to tell me, he moved closer and kissed me.

My mind went completely blank. I didn’t care about talking to him about anything, or maybe stopping and saying, “Hey, you’re my ex-boyfriend, we’ve both had a very emotional week, and we’re drunk, _and_ maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

Instead of saying that, I pulled him closer, shifting so he was on top of me.

I desperately wanted it to mean something, but I knew in the morning, when we were sober, we’d just go back to being friends. So, I took advantage of the night, wishing it’d never end.

**November 10 th **

We woke up in my bed, arms wrapped around each other. I shifted, trying to look at my clock without waking him up.

“Good morning.”

I turned back to look at him. “Did I wake you up?”

He smiled. “No, I woke up a few minutes ago. I just didn’t want to move in case it woke you.”

Sunlight was streaming in through the window and lighting up his face, turning his eyes into pools of honey.

“Oh. Thanks.”

I started to shift, to move away, but he resisted.

“I’m comfy,” he whined, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

If he wanted to stay like this, I was fine with it. I settled back in, shifting to press my body to his.

“Should we…talk about it?” he asked. “Or do you wanna just forget that happened and move on?”

A lightbulb went off in my head. “What if we just keep sleeping together?” I suggested.

“What?”

“I mean, I trust you, and you know what I like, and I had a good time last night, and I don’t see a reason why two friends can’t just casually have sex.”

He stared at me for a moment, and I thought he was about to shoot me down, but he rolled on top of me, kissing my neck.

I laughed. “Dude, not right now!”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.”

He propped himself up on his elbows, still on top of me.

“So, what, do we, like, have to make rules, or plan when we’re gonna-”

“I figured it’d just be like over the summer. Whenever we feel like it.”

He nodded, curls flopping and bouncing in front of his face.

“Wait, so are we allowed to-”

“Peter, you sound like a third grader who’s just been allowed access to a playground. If I’m not cool with something, I’ll tell you.”

“Got it.”

Now that he’d rolled us over, the sunlight was bugging me a lot more. Before, my hangover had been a dull ache, but now my head was starting to pound.

I couldn’t imagine how Peter’s head was feeling, because he’d been facing the window, and he got hangovers way worse than I did.

“Do you wanna get up and get some Advil and breakfast?” I asked.

“Yeah, I have a pretty bad headache right now,” he admitted.

“I figured. Come on, you gotta get off of me so I can get up.”

He rolled off of me, then laid on his back, staring at the ceiling while I got up and changed into actual clothes.

“When did our lives get so complicated?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

I walked around the bed to his side. “Peter, come on, you gotta get up.”

He grabbed my pillow and pulled it over his head. “I don’t wannaaaaaa.”

“I’m not making you breakfast in bed, dingus.”

He pushed the pillow off his face, and held his arms up, like little kids do when they want to be picked up.

I crossed my arms. “Peter, I swear, I’ll hurt you.”

He grabbed me by the front of my t-shirt and pulled me back down onto the bed, on top of him, then rolled us both over, tangling us in sheets and blankets. Unfortunately, he got a little too much momentum, and successfully threw us both off the other side of the bed. I landed on top of him.

“I’ve decided I don’t like you when you’re hungover,” I groaned. “How the fuck are we gonna get out of this?”

He slid a hand around my neck and pulled me down so he could kiss me. He got lucky in that he had one free hand. I did not. But I kissed him back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling away.

“For what, wrapping us up in the world’s worst burrito, or for kissing me?”

He smiled sheepishly. “A bit of both.”

“The only one you have to be sorry for is the burrito thing,” I told him, shifting my weight and rolling us onto our sides to free one end of the blanket.

He laughed. “I’m sorry I wrapped us up in a blanket burrito.”

I managed to kick off some of the blankets, got my arms free, and pulled the rest away. “You’re forgiven.”

I helped him up, only for him to put his hands on my hips and back me up against a wall.

“Peter, at the very least, let me get you some Advil. You look like you’re in pain.”

“Hey, you used to like it when I took control.”

How do you explain to a friend that you don’t like that anymore because somebody took control just a little too far?

I put a hand to his chest and gently pushed him off.

“Come on, dude, we both need some breakfast.”

**November 12 th **

I showed up to Harry’s house holding a box of pizza. He immediately grabbed it out of my hands, opened it, grabbed a slice, and took a bite out of it.

“Hello to you too, Harry.”

“Hi,” he said through a mouthful of pizza.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, completely deadpan, “real sexy. Watching a guy talk through a mouthful of pizza? That really gets me going.”

“I’m hungry!”

I rolled my eyes.

We went up to his room, watched a movie, and ate the whole pizza within the first twenty minutes.

I laid across his bed, groaning. “I feel like death on a stick.”

“I feel fine.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s literally what I came here for, Osborn.”

He crawled onto the bed, propping himself up on top of me.

“Dude, can you give me a second? I literally just ate half of a large pizza.”

He laughed. “So did I, Jones, get your shit together.”

I smacked his shoulder, laughing. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of my thing.”

“Not to Connor, it isn’t. Or maybe it is, if you guys start to get into-”

“MJ, if you finish that sentence, I will literally kill you.”

“I flatlined on Tuesday and that didn’t take, so I’d like to see you try.”

His whole face dropped. He got off of me and sat next to me on the bed. “Way to kill the mood, Jones.”

I sat up. “Sorry, I didn’t-” I cut myself off. Nothing I could say wouldn’t sound stupid.

He ran a hand over his face. “How much do _you_ think I care?”

“What do you mean?”

“MJ, I wouldn’t sleep for the first two days you were in the hospital because I was scared something was gonna change when I was asleep.”

I frowned. “I don’t-”

“It was made abundantly clear to me that I don’t know what you’ve been through, so I don’t know why you don’t think I care about you, but for the love of god, MJ, when I heard the flatline, I thought I was gonna pass out or something.”

I stared at him. For a moment, I thought he was gonna cry, but then he kinda just shook himself off.

“Anyways, where were we?”

“I’m pretty sure we were about to have sex.”

He snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like us.”

I sat up straighter and started to pull off my shirt. He stared at me, which wasn’t unusual, but he almost looked confused.

“The way girls pull off their shirts is so weird. Like, it’s cute, don’t get me wrong, but you all cross your arms and pull it off from the bottom.”

I laughed. “Guys always grab shirts by the back of the neck and, like, yank it off.”

“Wait, hold on, I wanna try something.”

He crossed his arms, grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt, and started to pull it off, but got stuck just before he got his arms over his head. I laughed as he struggled.

“Can I get a little help?” he asked.

“Nah, this is funny.”

“I hate you,” he mumbled.

I got up on my knees and helped him out of the shirt.

“I don’t understand how you do that.”

I shrugged. “Different proportions, I guess. Or maybe girls are just more flexible.”

He smirked. “Do you wanna put that flexibility thing to the test?”

**November 16 th **

I found myself bored, lonely, and hungry after school. I was sitting on my window seat, Murphy in my lap, staring out the window.

It occurred to me that maybe I could just text the group chat and ask if anybody wanted to go for food.

Me: Hey does anyone wanna go for food in like an hour

Flash: Oh wow just leave me out again?

Flash: Really Basket Case, I’m tired of you guys just shoving all this fun shit in my face.

Me: What

Me: How am I leaving you out right now?

Ned: She literally said anyone, flash

Me: You’re in the group chat aren’t you? You could’ve just said “I’m in”

Flash: But that doesn’t really apply to me, does it?

Flash: I don’t even know why I’m in this chat.

Ned: Because you can be semi-decent

Flash: Semi-decent?

Flash: That’s what you’re going with?

Me: Also it evens out the boy-girl ratio which is good for laser tag and stuff

Flash: You know what just shut the hell up Michelle

Liz: Woah that was totally uncalled for

Ned: Flash, calm down dude seriously she didn’t do anything

Me: What the fuck dude?

Flash: I’m tired of this shit!

Flash: It’s not like any of you hang out with me anyways!

Ned: You always act like you’re too good for us

Me: I mean I could see myself spending time with you if you weren’t a complete ass to me 99% of the time

Me: remember the texts you posted and never actually apologized for? Kinda put a wrench in things

Flash: That’s rich coming from Midtown’s resident slut

Me: I’m sorry what?

Flash: What? Did you not understand what I typed?

Flash: You’re a slut

Liz: Ok you can dial the asshole WAY down

Flash: No! I’m tired of everyone treating me like shit!

Liz: You can’t say shit like that and then complain that we don’t hang out with you

Liz: This is exactly why!

Ned: Mj’s not a slut flash what is wrong with you

Flash: Not a slut? You do know how many guys she’s slept with right?

Me: Dude I’ve been with like 3 people and they’re all friends

Flash: Oh yeah?

Flash: What about that fourth one?

I felt my stomach drop. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

Liz: Fourth?

Ned: Flash stop making shit up

Flash: You know, the one that raped you

I stared at my phone screen. No, no no no no no no no.

Liz: What

Ned: Wait, what?

Flash: What? None of you knew?

This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Ned: Mj is he serious??

My whole body felt cold. My hands were shaking. Jesus fucking Christ, I couldn’t believe him.

Liz: Whether or not that’s true. It is not your place to say anything

Liz: That is the biggest dick move of the century

Flash: Yeah right it’s not my fucking place

Flash: You guys are her best friends how could you not know

Ned: If that happened then it’s her choice to tell and not yours

Liz: Exactly

I had to tell them now. I had to tell them he was telling the truth. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

Me: he’s right.

I turned off my phone, then let my head fall back against the wall.

“Fuck.”

I felt gross again. The same way I’d felt that night. Gross and violated and broken and dirty.

I gently pushed Murphy off of me, then grabbed my bag, threw a sketchbook and some pencil crayons in, and left.

I walked to the docks, climbed up onto the rooftop of the abandoned building, and sat down. At first, I wanted to draw, so I opened my sketchbook and pulled up a picture I’d stolen off a Spider-Man fanpage from when he helped me off the fire escape. I wasn’t super happy with how it came out, but it forced me to think about something else.

Eventually, I heard Flash calling my name from the base of the building.

“MJ! MJ, I’m sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you!”

I ignored him. He couldn’t stay here all night.

I could. I didn’t care anymore. Maybe I’d freeze. At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with Peter or Harry telling me that they didn’t want me anymore. Because why would they? I could barely look at myself in the mirror anymore. Why would they want anything to do with me, knowing what they knew now?

I tried to start a new page in my sketchbook, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I felt numb. I knew I was about to lose everything I cared about. I’d been lying to my friends for a month, and acting like an ass, and now they knew exactly how fucked up I was, and they’d all ditch me. I’d ditch me if I could. I’d crawl out of my body if I could.

I sat there, staring out at the water, pulling my knees up to my chest.

“MJ! Come down!” Flash called again.

I didn’t know if I could deal with this. I couldn’t go to talk to my dad about this, and listen to whatever wisdom he had to offer. My friends were all about to leave me. At the end of this I’d maybe still have Miles to go to, but I wouldn’t blame him if he picked our other friends over me.

I didn’t want to be alone again.

“MJ!” This voice was Liz’s. “MJ, please, come down.”

“You don’t have to talk to us,” Harry called, “just come down.”

I dropped my head, letting my forehead fall against my knees. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face them.

“If you need space, that’s fine, but you can’t go missing like this for hours!” Liz added.

So now Liz cared? She didn’t care about how I felt when she kissed Peter, and she didn’t care when I was in the hospital dying, but now that it was this? Now that Flash had spilled the one thing I never wanted anybody to know? Now she cared?

I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad. The sun was setting and it was getting cold. Harry, Liz, and Flash could call my name all they wanted. They’d give in and go home before I did.

A couple hours passed. Eventually, Liz and Harry started taking turns standing outside and trying to talk to me, while the other sat in Liz’s heated car.

I heard another car pull up, someone get out, and quiet talking. Then Harry got back into Liz’s car, and they drove off.

I figured I was completely alone now, but then I heard something coming from the side of the building I used to climb up.

“MJ.” It was Peter’s voice, soft and gentle, and almost scared.

Nope. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t have this conversation with him right now. I couldn’t look him in the eye as he told me he was done with me.

He came and sat down next to me. “I’m sorry, MJ.”

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, and then I felt his hand on the small of my back.

“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice coming out choked and crackly. He took his hand off of me.

“Sorry. Are you- no, that’s stupid, of course you aren’t okay.”

“Peter, just tell me whatever it is you want to say to me.” I still had my head down, but I could see his body tense up. Yep, this was it. I was naïve to get close to him again, only to have to watch him leave again.

“MJ, look at me.”

“I’d rather not see the look on your face when you tell me you don’t want me,” I snapped.

There was a long silence, then he moved to get up, and I thought he was leaving. He moved in front of me, instead.

“MJ, please, look at me. You don’t have to say anything.”

I lifted my head and watched him. He looked sad.

“I’ll never not want you, okay? What happened to you doesn’t change how I feel about you at all.”

“Don’t lie to me just to make me feel better, okay, Peter?”

He looked like a kicked puppy. “I’m not lying. I love you, okay? I’m sorry about all of this, and I wish I could’ve protected you from some of this, and if you never want me to touch you again, I’ll understand. But, please, MJ, let me take you home. It’s cold and dark and I want you to be safe.”

“I’ll call Miles or Eli or something. I’ll be fine.”

He sighed. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe.”

I stared at him, tears welling up in my eyes. “Peter, just go home.”

He dropped his head for a second, then looked up at me again. “The most I’ll do is wait by my car for you to come down.”

I looked away, then down, and he reached over and lifted my chin. Tears spilled over and streaked down my cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering a couple seconds too long.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to my place. May’s ordering Thai food, and we can play with Thwip.”

He stood up, then offered a hand. I hesitated, still a little scared, but then accepted his hand and let him help me to my feet.

The second I was standing, he hugged me.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t even speak. I was crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. My knees felt weak, and thank god Peter was there to wrap his arms around me, or else I don’t know if I would’ve been able to stand.

He let me cry into his shoulder for a few minutes, holding me tight. When I finally pulled away, sniffling and wiping my face dry, I couldn’t look at him.

“I’m just gonna go,” I mumbled. He hesitated, arms still loosely around my waist.

“MJ, look at me. Look at me,” he insisted.

I turned to look at him, struggling to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think any less of you than I did before. You’re strong as hell, MJ.”

I sniffled. “Yeah, I look like somebody who’s super strong,” I said sarcastically.

“Crying doesn’t make you weak.”

“Running away from my problems does,” I argued. “Lying to my friends for a month because I'm scared of what they’ll think of me does. Since when do I fucking care what other people think?”

“You’ve had a rough couple of months, MJ. And everybody cares at some level what other people think. I care what you think of me.”

I stared at him. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I’ve always cared what you thought of me.”

“That is…news to me.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know that I-”

“Why would you care what I think?”

He hesitated. “You’re smart, you’re picky about who you hang out with, everyone looks up to you-”

I laughed. It came out harsh and humourless. “Who looks up to me?”

“Ned, Jessie, any of our friends. I do.”

The smile fell off my face. Why would Peter, who was literally Spider-Man, look up to me, the broken girl he broke up with?

His eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips, and he started to lean in. For a moment, I wanted to kiss him, too, but then I felt this rush of guilt through my body, and I turned away.

“Can we just- can we go back to your place?”

“Uh, sure. Okay.”

I pulled myself out of his arms, grabbed my stuff, and slid down the water pipe. I hated feeling guilty for what Brandon did. I hated that any progress I’d made in the last month felt like it had gone down the drain. I hated feeling like I needed to take an hour-long shower, knowing I still wouldn’t feel clean at the end of it.

I wouldn’t look at Peter, or let him touch me, the whole drive back to his place. I didn’t know why. I wanted to feel safe, and I knew Peter always made me feel safe. I just didn’t feel good enough for that right now. I didn’t deserve him, or his safety.

When we got back to his place, we ate with May in the kitchen. She was always easy to talk to. It was easy to lighten up over the Thai food, to let myself smile, to relax my shoulders.

After dinner, May made me some tea, and I ended up sitting on Peter’s fire escape, alone, staring out at the city. He and May stayed in the kitchen, talking for a while, but after about half an hour, he climbed out on the fire escape, bringing an extra hoodie with him.

“Hey. It’s cold, and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He held my mug while I put the hoodie on.

We stood there in silence for a while, and I sipped at the tea. After a few minutes, I stepped closer to him, sliding an arm around him. Hesitantly, he put an arm around my shoulders, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“It happened two days before we slept together at that party,” I told him. I didn’t know why I was talking about it now, but I was.

“Oh.”

“And it was kind of my fault, anyways.”

“MJ-”

“I let him get me drunk, and I wasn’t paying attention, and then when he was pulling me into my mom’s room, I couldn’t fight back. I was so out of it.”

“That’s not your fault, though. He-he still didn’t have your consent.”

“I know. But I put myself in that position.”

“You’re victim-blaming,” he told me. “I’ve seen you protest against this sort of thing.”

I looked up at him. “You’re right.”

He turned his head to look at me. “You look surprised.”

I stepped away from him, putting my mug on his windowsill, then turned to face him. “No, it’s just- yeah. I’m surprised.”

He laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

I watched him for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For not telling you, for not letting you touch me in the car-”

“I’m not entitled to touching you just because we’re…screwing around, or whatever. If you don’t want me to touch you, then you don’t want me to touch you.”

I stepped closer to him, so we were chest-to-chest. “I know, but I- I don’t know. I felt bad for pushing you away. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s okay, MJ.”

I slid my arms over his shoulders, and around his neck, pulling him closer, then kissed him. His hands landed on my hips, gripping me tight. The kiss deepened and deepened, until I was moaning softly, running my hands through his hair.

“Let’s go inside,” he mumbled against my lips.

“I don’t wanna stop kissing you,” I complained.

“Well, I don’t wanna have sex on a fire escape,” he retorted, his voice still soft and gentle. He slipped his hands under my shirt, sliding them around my waist.

“Can we just stay out here for a couple minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I kissed him again, leaning more heavily against him as time went on. Slowly, he pulled away.

“Do you want to go in? It’s getting colder.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“We don’t- I know I said sex, but we don’t have to-”

I ducked my head, kissing his neck. He let out a soft, surprised sigh.

“You might disappoint me if we don’t.”

He smiled, then took my mug off the windowsill and helped me into his room. He climbed in, set the mug on his desk, closed the window, closed the door, then came back and kissed me again.

It was impossible not to smile against his lips. God, I loved him.

I caught myself pretending the sex meant something, that this wasn’t casual and meaningless, that the soft kisses and sighs meant something real. I found myself falling in love with him all over again. Falling in love with his messy post-sex hair and his blushes and giggles and the caring way he held me, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his fingers tracing patterns over my skin.

But it was just sex. And we were just friends. And it would probably never be anything more than this ever again.

At least I knew he still saw me the same. He didn’t see my body the same way I did. He didn’t see it as broken or dirty. I didn’t know if he actually wanted me, or if he slept with me out of pity, but it _felt_ like he wanted me. That was all I really needed, at least tonight.

He was already asleep, his head next to mine on the pillow, face relaxed. I planted a soft kiss on his jawline before resting my head on his shoulder and letting myself drift off.

**November 18 th **

Harry: Mj

Me: hi

Harry: Are you okay?

Me: yeah.

Me: you don’t have to force a conversation if you don’t want to talk to me.

Harry: I want to talk to you just not sure what to say

Harry: I don’t want to force you to talk about what happened and I don’t want to treat you like a fragile piece of glass because I know you hate that. But I also don’t know what else to say

Me: you could just tell me that you’re done with me. rip off the band aid

Harry: What do you mean?

Me: you’re not gonna wanna sleep with me. especially since I kinda lied to you about the whole thing.

Harry: You didn’t lie you just didn’t tell me everything

Me: I told you my wrists were bruised because of an art project gone wrong

Harry: Okay yeah that was a lie

Me: and I lied by omission by not telling you why I was so uncomfortable around your dad

Me: he stared at me the same way Brandon did

Harry: Well that’s valid and I’m very pissed with my dad now but I’m still not mad everyone lies at some point

Me: that doesn’t make it okay

Harry: You’re right

Me: I felt bad every time I lied to you but I was so scared of what would happen if I told you the truth

Me: and I knew I’d have to tell you sometime I just didn’t expect flash to do it

Harry: Yeah that was a dick move

Me: he’s done some shitty stuff to me but I thought that’d be the one line he wouldn’t cross

Me: and now I feel stupid for think Flash would ever hesitate to say something like that if it meant he got the upper hand

Harry: Don’t feel stupid it’s a normal thing to have a little hope in a person but be disappointed in the end

Me: yeah well I should’ve learned my lesson when he stole my phone and posted all those texts

Me: I set myself up for this so I’m more mad at myself than anything I guess. every aspect of this whole situation is my fault

Me: I knew Brandon was a creep and I still let him get me drunk. I should’ve known not to let a drink out of my sight but I was stupid. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk the night I told Flash. I shouldn’t have kept the whole thing a secret because then at least I would’ve had control over the whole thing.

Me: and then he drugged me again the night I called you. when did I get this fucking stupid

Harry: no it’s a good thing you called me

Harry: If you hadn’t call you would have died

Me: yep.

Me: this is awful bc I’m so grateful you came by and saved my ass but it just all would’ve been easier if I’d let go

Me: which sounds suicidal and I’m not because I don’t want to die I just want things to stop hurting

Harry: Everything would’ve sucked if you died

Me: I can see miles having a hard time but

Me: idk I don’t feel like it’d really affect you guys beyond that

Me: logically I know it’d be hard but idk it’s really easy to feel like it wouldn’t be

Harry: trust me it’d be awful

Me: all you’d be losing is somebody to have sex with

Harry: No

Harry: Well yes but no

Harry: You are one of my best friends besides that who am I gonna have cinnamon buns with

Me: literally any other friends

Harry: nope it wouldn’t be the same

Me: it sucks so much bc I felt worthless my whole life and then in the last year I started to feel better about it and it got way easier when peter and I were dating

Me: and then we broke up, and my dad died, and the thing with Brandon happened, and now I’m back to square one

Harry: Well then I’ll help you work your way up

Me: you don’t have to do that.

Harry: I don’t have to but I want to

Me: why on earth would you want to

Me: why would you want me

Harry: Because you’re my best friend

Me: you can’t tell me that you don’t think any less of me now

Harry: I don’t think any less of you

Harry: Its not your fault that Brandon is a jerk and can’t keep it in his pants

Me: I let him get me drunk Harry

Me: it’s my fucking fault and I’m being a baby about it

Harry: Its not your fault getting drunk and getting raped are two different things. Just because you gave him your consent to get drunk doesn’t mean you gave him your consent for sex

Me: I still should’ve known better

Me: I thought it’d be the same as when I was a kid and he’d just grope me and be creepy. I thought there were lines he wouldn’t cross.

Me: And then I was stupid enough to think my mom would care but she was in the kitchen the whole time.

Harry: well your mom is shit

Me: yeah. she scares me a bit.

Harry: That’s not okay

Harry: Remember you’re always welcome at my place

Me: I don’t wanna bother you though

Harry: You could never bother me

Harry: I love you

Harry: In a platonic way of course

Me: Well yeah

Me: I love you too dude

Harry: Where are you?

Me: my place

Harry: Okay I’m bringing you cinnamon buns

Me: there’s not way I can talk you out of this is there?

Harry: N O P E

Harry: I’LL BE OVER IN 15

Me: fine text me when you get here so I can buzz you in

Harry: Okay I will

A few minutes later, he called me. I picked up.

“Listen, I would’ve texted, but I brought a lot of cinnamon buns and this box is too big to balance with one hand and text with the other. Can you buzz me in?”

“Do you want me to just come down there and open the door for you?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, whatever you say.”

I hung up and buzzed him in. He knocked on my door a couple minutes later. When I opened it, he was holding the largest box of cinnamon buns I’d ever seen.

“Harry, what the hell?”

He shrugged. “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, I’d put rape at a ten, so I ordered all the cinnamon buns the bakery had left.”

He set the box down on the kitchen counter as I closed the door behind him, then turned around and hugged me.

“I’m really sorry, MJ.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either.”

“Well, it kind of-”

“Michelle Jensen Jones, it was not your fault. Don’t give me that shit.”

I sighed, leaning into the hug a little more before I pulled away.

“I’ll, um, I’ll get plates.”

I got a couple plates, put a cinnamon bun on each one, and microwaved them so they were warm and the icing was melty, then got out forks and knives and we sat down at the table to eat.

“So…you and Connor,” I said. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?”

“Not that much time,” he protested, but his voice started to sound shy and his cheeks flushed. I grinned.

“Oh, so you haven’t been going on lunchtime walks with Connor?”

“They’re just walks!”

“Yeah, just super romantic walks, where you guys are bumping shoulders and smiling at each other and-”

“What, are you stalking me?”

“No, just…glancing out of the art room window occasionally to check up on you two. Also, when Connor dishes, he _dishes_.”

Harry’s whole face turned pink. “It’s not- he just wants to be friends.”

I blinked. “No, I’m pretty sure he wants a little more than that.”

Harry reached over and shoved a huge piece of cinnamon roll in my mouth. “There. That’s better.”

I frowned, and tried to say, “You’re a dick,” but it came out muffled and I almost choked.

Harry grinned. “Perfect.”

I reached over and smacked his shoulder.

It took me way too long to chew through the chunk of cinnamon roll in my mouth, but, I mean, could I really complain? It was warm cinnamon roll. Overall, not a bad scenario.

After cinnamon rolls, we sat down and watched a movie. It was some TV movie that was hilariously bad, but after a while it kinda got old.

“Okay, this is worse than the shitty pep rallies at school. Can we do literally anything else?” Harry whined.

Without thinking, I got on top of him, knees on either side of him, sliding my arms over his shoulders and around his neck. He smirked.

“Yeah, I’m okay with this.”

**November 19 th **

I’d stolen one of Peter’s shirts after I’d spent the night with him on Friday, and I wore it to school on Monday as some kind of security blanket, since I was a little anxious about dealing with Flash.

Thankfully, Flash wasn’t too hard to brush off, because Miles was running defence all day. Anytime Flash even looked at me, Miles slid between him and I, giving him a death glare. Sometimes, I didn’t know how Miles managed to get there in time, considering at one point, he was supposed to be in class in a different building. I didn’t question it. I’d take whatever interference I could get.

After the last bell, I was at my locker, putting my homework in my backpack and grabbing my sweater.

“Nice shirt,” Peter said from behind me. I turned to see him wearing one of my sweaters.

“Dude, when did you even grab that?”

“You mentioned you keep an extra sweater in your locker and I was cold in physics today so I came and grabbed it. I didn’t know I was balancing out your karma though.” He tugged on the sleeve of the shirt.

“You coming over to ‘study’ tonight?” I asked, doing air-quotes with one hand while I stuffed my sketchbook in my backpack.

His entire demeanor immediately changed. He swallowed thickly, standing up a little straighter. “I, uh, I can if you want.”

I laughed, reaching up to tousle his hair. “You’re adorable.”

“That’s not quite the compliment I’d use when it comes to sex,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair to fix it.

I grabbed my car keys out of my bag and zipped it shut. “Do you wanna come over at five? That’ll give me a chance to get some work done first.”

“I can just come over now and do it with you, if you want some help with the chem homework.”

“Peter, if you come over now, we’ll get distracted and neither of us will get anything productive done.”

He shrugged. “That’s a fair point. I’ll see you later, MJ.”

He tousled my hair, jumping away from me before I could retaliate, a smug grin on his face.

God, he was hard not to love.

I had all my homework finished by 4:30, so I figured I’d throw Peter a curveball and…dress up a little.

When I’d gone on my road trip, I’d done a bit of shopping, and thus had quite a few racier options than my usual plain black underwear.

I settled on a burgundy lacy bra, matching panties, and threw on Peter’s shirt over it.

And that’s what I answered the door in.

“Hey.”

His jaw dropped. It was kind of satisfying to watch. The shirt covered enough that he couldn’t see a hint of the bra, but he could see some of the lace on my hips. His eyes lingered there for a moment, before snapping back up to meet mine. His cheeks were a little rosy.

“Do you wanna come in?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Uh- I- ye-yeah.”

I snorted, pulling him in and closing the door behind us.

He started to take off his shoes and jacket, then looked at me again. “That’s-that’s my shirt.” He sounded like he was in shock.

“Good to know your eyes still work,” I teased.

“Shut up. I wasn’t expecting you to look like…that.”

“Wow, you really know how to romance a girl.”

“Listen,” he said, suddenly sounding exhausted. “I have had a very long week.”

“Peter, it’s _Monday_.”

“I said what I said.”

I laughed. “Am I allowed to jump on you yet, or do I have to let you process first? Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing very little, and this apartment is not super warm.”

“Right. Sorry.” He spread his arms, and said, “Jump on me.”

Just to be a bit of an asshole, I actually jumped on him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He wrapped his arms around me just in time.

“Jesus, MJ, what the hell?”

I didn’t answer, kissing him instead.

By some miracle, he managed to carry me into my bedroom, while still kissing me, and sit me down on top of the dresser, his lips never leaving mine. Once I was on the dresser and he didn’t have to worry about supporting the weight of my body, he slipped his hands under my shirt.

Sometimes, even when I knew it was just meaningless sex, I could feel the sparks under his fingertips. I missed feeling that every time he touched me.

I ignored the pang in my chest, pressing my body against Peter’s.

_Let’s waste time chasing cars around our heads._

But now we were just chasing sparks between our bodies.

**November 22 nd**

My mom took Murphy and went to Aunt Denise’s.

It was Thanksgiving, and I was alone in my apartment.

I knew I could just ask Miles if I could join him and Mama Morales, but I felt terrible asking, even though I was there for Thanksgiving from ages 5-9, and then again when I was 13 and 15, because my mom would just go to Aunt Denise’s.

Spending Thanksgiving alone was the most depressing thing I could think of. And, goddammit, I’d had a depressing enough fall as it was.

I called Miles.

“Hey, chica, what’s up?”

“I- okay, I feel terrible asking, but-”

“Mom already made mashed potatoes for you. The cheesy kind you like.”

I was silent.

“MJ?”

“Yeah, hi, I’m here.”

“Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“No. No, that’s fine, I can drive.”

“I’m gonna come get you.”

“Miles-”

“MJ, you’re family, did you really think we wouldn’t have a seat for you?”

“Well, I-I mean-”

“There’s always space for you here.”

Something in his voice reminded me of when I was in the hospital, saying goodbye. He sounded sad.

“Okay.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up.

_“All you have to do is tell me to stay, and I will.”_

_He ran his thumb over my knuckles, tears falling down his cheeks. “I can’t do that, MJ. I want you to be okay, and if I have to lose you for that…then okay.”_

I hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. I wanted to be there for him, but god, it’d hurt. I didn’t want to hurt him. Harry could move on, and I didn’t think Peter didn’t even loved me anymore, but I knew Miles would never be able to replace me.  

Man, those goodbyes had almost killed me. Seeing Mama Morales and Miles cry over me, Harry telling me he didn’t want to say goodbye, and Peter just…watching me.

I dug out a sweater Mama Morales got me for Christmas a couple years ago, then went downstairs to wait for Miles.

He pulled up, windows rolled down, blasting Party In The USA.

“Get in, loser, we’re going eating!” he shouted over the music.

I opened the door, laughing as I got in the car. “You’re the world’s biggest dork.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me, Jones.”

“Someone had to, Morales.”

“Ooh, low blow.”

He rolled the windows back up before shifting into drive and heading back to his place.

“Thanks for having me over for Thanksgiving,” I said, turning down the music.

“Don’t mention it. So, did your mom ditch you for Denise again?”

“Yep. Took Murphy, too.”

“Man, fuck that lady.”

I sighed, letting my head fall back against the headrest. “Things were so good with her for so long. Like, she still wasn’t being a parent, but it was easy, you know? It was easier to pretend we were an actual family. And then Peter went and told her off, and she went right back to the way things were. And I don’t know why everything had to be so good, and then all at once it just fell apart. I lost Peter, I lost my dad, there was the pregnancy scare, the Brandon thing, the hospital thing. I just want something to be okay again.”

Miles reached over and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, MJ.”

“No, don’t be, you’re helping a lot.”

“I still couldn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your job to protect me, Miles. You’re not my bodyguard.”

He sighed. “I know. I just wish I could’ve stopped it all, I guess. Almost losing you was the worst feeling in the world.”

And now I felt guilty. I didn’t want to hurt Miles, not in a million years.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, chica. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

We got to his place, and went inside.

“MJ! I made you mashed potatoes!” Mama Morales said, upon seeing me walk in.

I grinned. “Thank you.”

Miles and I set the table while Mama Morales cooked, then the three of us sat down to eat.

“I normally hate that whole tradition of going around the table and saying what you’re thankful for, so you two don’t have to say anything,” Mama Morales said, “but I am incredibly thankful that you pulled through, MJ. You’re like the daughter I never had.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna get in on that one,” Miles added. “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

Mama Morales reached over, putting her hand on top of mine, running her thumb over it and smiling.

“I’m thankful for you two, for being an actual family for me,” I said, starting to choke up. I took a deep breath, willing away the sting in my nose.  

“Okay, enough feelings, let’s eat,” Miles said, ever the eloquent one.

We ate dinner, which was fantastic, and then when we were all stuffed with turkey and potatoes and stuffing, we sat down in the living room and played Monopoly. Mama Morales schooled Miles and I, winning with all the railroads, utilities, and two other monopolies.

Miles jokingly acted all huffy and left the room, then came back to clean up and put the game away, then he and I went and sat in his room.

“I know I’ve said it, but thank you for having me over tonight.”

“Yeah, of course. You know, um, Mom and I have talked about it, and that guest room can just be your room. Like, permanently.”

I frowned. “As in I’d be living here?”

Miles nodded.

“Mama Morales is allergic to Murphy, and I can’t just leave him with my mom or with Connor. Plus, like, I’d have to get a job so I can pay rent, which I’d do, but it’s just tricky because it’s senior year and all-”

“MJ, Mom doesn’t make me pay rent. And you’re like her daughter, she said so herself.”

“But it’s not fair of me to suddenly move in and just be another expense.”

“We can afford it, MJ, but we can’t afford to lose _you_.”

I looked down. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t feel right about it. And there’s Murphy.”

“Okay, well, that room is yours. It’s not the guest room. It’s your room. So, like, leave clothes in the closet instead of keeping them in your car, and you can bring your art stuff over and-”

“So, you want me to move in, but in a subtle way?”

Miles shrugged, nodding. “Yeah, you’re onto me.”

“Miles-”

“MJ, we just want you safe and happy. You’re neither of those things when you’re with your mom.”

“I turn eighteen next year, and I don’t think we’re at much risk for another overdose incident-”

“James isn’t better than Brandon, remember?”

I looked away. He was right.

“Dude, the guy went to prison for _attempted murder_ , and he owns a handgun.”

“I haven’t seen that gun since I was a kid.”

Miles stared at me. “Do you even hear yourself? Are you that immune to how fucked up this whole thing is?”

“No, I’m not, I’m just- I guess I’m just used to it. I’m not scared anymore.”

“You should be fucking scared, MJ! He chased you down a fire escape with a broken beer bottle!”

“And I’m fine! I flatlined and I’m fine!”

“You’re not fucking invincible, Jones. Just because you bounced back once doesn’t mean-”

“I know, Miles, but James isn’t going to drug and rape me!”

The room fell silent, my words hanging in the air. After a moment, I stood up.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“MJ-”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Miles.”

I gave him a quick hug, then left his room, giving Mama Morales a quick hug before I walked home.

**November 23 rd **

Connor and I hadn’t hung out in a while, so we agreed to do a quick photoshoot and then go to lunch at this new Italian place that had opened near the school. He picked me up, we took some cute photos, posted them, then got in his car and headed towards the restaurant.

“Liz, doesn’t the school look so different in the snow?” he asked as we waited at a red light, the school a block away.

“It goes from looking like a weird, kind of medieval looking school, to looking like Hogwarts.”

He laughed. “That’s exactly it.”

The light turned green, and he hit the gas. I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and then saw a semi barreling towards us. Before I could say or do anything, it hit the driver’s side, sending the car spinning through the intersection before it got wrapped around a pole. I had my eyes squeezed impossibly shut, and when things stilled, and I stopped screaming, I slowly opened my eyes and looked out into the intersection. The semi was gone.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning my head to look at Connor.

He wasn’t. His window was cracked, and there was blood on it. Way, way too much blood. His eyes were closed, his lips just barely parted. He looked dead.

“Connor,” I said. “Connor, wake up.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned to face him better, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing it, but he was still.

“Connor! Connor, please, you have to wake up. Please, please, _please_.”

I put two fingers on his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse.

It was there, steady. Weaker than it should’ve been, but even.

We needed an ambulance. It shouldn’t have taken me that long to realize that, but I chalked it up to the possibility that maybe I had a concussion, and then reached for my phone.

It had been in my lap when the semi hit. Now it was shattered, under my seat. When I hit the button, it didn’t even flicker.

I was terrified. Connor was bleeding out of his head, and I didn’t have a way to call for an ambulance, and I couldn’t just leave him here to find someone to call for us, could I? I didn’t even know if I’d be okay to walk. I felt dizzy and nauseous and I didn’t think I’d stay conscious for more than a few seconds if I tried to get out of the car.

I leaned back against my seat, defeated.

“This is so sad, hey Siri, play Despacito.”

I wasn’t expecting anything, considering my phone was smashed, but the opening notes played through Connor’s speakers.

His phone was connected via Bluetooth.

“Hey Siri? Call 911.”


	26. Monica and Chandler Reincarnate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs are 173-183 (Carry You - MyBoi)

**November 23 rd **

I was at Peter’s when Liz frantically texted me from Connor’s phone. And then everyone was in the group chat, trying to get to the hospital.

Peter and I ran down to his car and hopped in. He drove while I kept tabs on the group chat.

We had to drive past the school to get to the hospital, which meant we passed the crash. Liz was on a gurney, being loaded into an ambulance, but Connor was still in the car. I could barely see him through the blood on the window.

“Peter.” I reached over to him, without really thinking, and felt his fingers slide between mine.

“They’ll be okay.”

“Did you see-”

“Yeah.”

We got to the hospital, and made our way to Liz and Connor’s rooms.

I was terrified for Connor, and I wanted to make sure he was okay, but I heard Liz’s voice as I came down the hallway, and all the anger I’d been storing up since she kissed Peter dissipated. I let go of Peter’s hand and ran into her room. Cindy, Jessie, Ned, and Betty were already there.

“Liz, I’m sorry,” I said, coming up to the bed.

She gave me a sad smile. “It’s okay, MJ.”

Peter caught up, and sat with me for a while with Liz.

Eventually, Harry texted me from Connor’s room to tell me that Connor was awake.

“Liz, Connor’s awake, do you mind if I head over into his room to check up on him?”

“Oh, yeah. Let me know how he’s doing.”

I stood up, and Peter gave me the biggest, widest eyes.

“I’m right down the hall, dude,” I said softly, ruffling his curls before I left.

The first thing I noticed when I went into Connor’s room was the way he and Harry were looking at each other. I’d never seen Harry look so enamoured yet worried, and I’d never seen Connor look so dazed yet smitten.

“Hey.” I kept my voice soft, so I didn’t startle them.

Harry’s eyes dropped to the floor. Connor looked at me, his eyebrows a little furrowed.

“Hey.”

I went and sat down next to Harry. “How ya feeling, kiddo?”

He blinked. “Dizzy. Confused. Apparently, I have a concussion and I have to stay here overnight.”

He had cuts and bruises all over the left side of his face, and there were cuts in his left arm, too. I wasn’t surprised by the concussion or the overnight order.

I saw Harry’s fingers twitch, like he wanted to touch Connor, but he was stopping himself.

Connor looked at me, frowning. “You’re not gonna go see Liz, are you? Because you two were fighting.”

I shook my head. “I already talked to her. We’re all good.”

“You two were fighting? Oh, that’s why you were calling her Elizabeth. Got it,” Harry said. Connor cracked a smile.

“You’re so clueless.”

“I’m not clueless!”

Miles knocked on the door.

“Hey, Connor.”

Connor waved him in, and the four of us sat together and chatted for a while. Connor’s parents came by eventually, so Harry, Miles, and I left. I said goodbye to Liz and then Miles drove me home.

A few hours later, Peter texted me and asked if I’d come over, since May was on a date with her mystery boo, and he was kind of shaken from the day and didn’t want to be alone.

I picked up a pizza on my way to his place, then we sat on the floor in his room, chatting and eating.

“I’m sorry I caused the whole fight between you and Liz,” Peter said as we were cleaning up. “I feel like I got in between you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude.”

“No, if I hadn’t kissed her at that party-”

“You were drunk. And you’re not bound by the girl code. You didn’t get mad at me when Harry and I hooked up last month.” And a million times after that.

“Well, yeah, but still, I-I feel bad. You two were really close.”

“It was just a kiss.” That wasn’t really true. It was more than that. He’d gotten caught in the middle of our friendship the moment I’d developed feelings for him, but I knew that I couldn’t give up one or the other, so I did my best to make sure Liz was okay with it, asking her over and over if she was sure she was okay with me going out with him. And then she’d gone and kissed him, despite knowing I was still in love with him. It wasn’t about the kiss so much as it was about the disrespect and disregard for my feelings.

But I couldn’t be mad about it anymore. She’d apologized over and over, and god, she’d looked shaken when she was sitting in that hospital bed. I didn’t want to lose her.

“Okay, but did I hurt you? Because you know that’s the last thing I wanna do.”

“Peter, drop it, okay?” I said, stepping closer to him and putting my hands on his shoulders. “Everything’s fine now.”

His eyes were locked on mine, and it felt like he was searching for a sign that things weren’t okay, that I was still hurt, but honestly? He knew what Brandon had done and he still wanted me, and having a little outside confirmation that I wasn’t entirely unloveable was all I needed to keep me afloat.

“MJ,” he murmured, leaning in closer, “everything isn’t fine.”

“They are right now,” I whispered back.

He tilted his head, then closed the rest of the space between us, sliding his arms around my waist, pressing me against his body as he kissed me.

And there it was again. The sparks. The sparks I chased all the way into his bed, and missed afterwards when I was laying next to him with his t-shirt on.

**November 26 th **

After band practice, I took a few friends out for a photoshoot. Harry, Ned, Liz, and Peter met up with me, and we wandered around the city, taking photos. I got a bunch of great shots of Harry in Times Square, a bunch of Liz, then a few of Ned and Peter.

We stumbled upon this back alley that was all lit up and had tables set up, like there was a restaurant operating in an alley. I made Peter pose in front of it, lifted my camera to my face, and tried to get my lens to focus.

He had this black hoodie on that I used to steal from him all the time, and his hair was overdue for a trim, and just kinda flopped where it wanted to. And he was giving me this look, like he was a five-year-old on Christmas day, and I was some Star Wars Lego set he’d been begging for.

I took the photo, then turned away.

“I, um, I think I have everything I need. Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, MJ,” Liz said, hugging her coat around herself tighter. “How long is the walk from here to your place?”

“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

Liz breathed into her hands, then rubbed them together to warm them up. “I can handle that.”

The five of us headed back, then they all drove home. I went up to the apartment and sat on the couch. My mom was at James’, which meant I would be alone all night.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Peter looked in front of all those lights. His hair all fluffy and floppy, his eyes wide, on me, his lips just slightly parted.

I texted Harry. Normally, I’d tell him to come over and have sex with me, but after the crash he’d told me he wanted to focus on wooing Connor, so he and I weren’t sleeping together anymore. Instead, I just ranted to him about how much it sucked that I still loved Peter for a bit, then decided the best use of my time would just be to use the pictures for my art project and then try not to look at them again.

I used my laptop to edit it, overlaying an acrylic piece I’d made in my art class, and posted it on my Instagram.

Why did he have to be so fucking perfect?

I stayed on the couch, editing the stuff from the photoshoot for a few hours, before I got a text from Peter.

Peter: Mj what do you know about Brandon?

Me: What? Why?

Peter: Just tell me

Peter: I can’t find him with only a first name

Me: Peter don’t do anything stupid

Peter: Mj just tell me

Me: No! I don’t want you to get yourself hurt!

Peter: I’m not gonna get myself hurt

Me: Last time you told me that, you ended up getting stabbed

Peter: He’s not gonna hurt me

Peter: I promise

Me: fine.

Me: I’ll tell you but only if you come over with hot chocolate

Peter: I will

Peter: Later on

Peter: I just need to know now

Me: For fucks sakes

Peter: Mj!

Peter: Please just tell me

I hated this. I hated that Peter could get to me so easily.

Me: God I’m gonna be giving a eulogy for you in a week won’t I

Me: His full name is Brandon Davenport

Peter: Do you know where he lives?

Me: Peter what are you planning on doing?

Peter: You’ll find out later I just need an address

Peter: Please MJ

I sighed. I hated this. I knew that he was probably putting on the Spider-Man suit and getting ready to go confront him. It terrified me. Brandon was dangerous. I didn’t want Peter to get hurt over me.

But he’d asked, and I was the idiot girl who fell in love and couldn’t let go, so of course I gave in.

Me: 40-12 192nd St

Me: I swear on my fathers grave Peter if you get hurt I’m gonna kill you

Me: If you’re not at my front door by midnight with hot chocolate I’m calling May

Me: and tony

Peter: Okay okay

Peter: Got it

Peter: I’ll see you later

Me: fuckin better

And now I couldn’t focus on my art projects. I closed my laptop and put it away, then paced around the living room.

Jesus fucking Christ, why did I tell him anything? Why couldn’t I just say no and tell him to go to bed?

He had an hour to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do and get hot chocolate and get here, so hopefully that meant he didn’t have enough time to do whatever stupid thing he wanted to.

I ended up sitting on the kitchen counter, staring at the front door, checking the time every ten seconds. If I believed in a god, I’d be praying so hard.

11:50 rolled around, so I texted him, anxious to know if he was okay.

Me: Peter I swear if you’re not here in ten minutes I’m calling tony

Me: You’re gonna be the death of me

Me: I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t fucking like it

Peter: I’m getting hot chocolate I’ll be there soon

Me: Are you okay? Are you hurt?

Peter: I’m fine mj

I was so relieved that I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, and tears started to fall down my cheeks.

Peter: I’m just waiting for our drinks and I’ll be there soon, okay?

Me: okay

Me: I’m still mad about this

Ten minutes passed, and I hadn’t hurt him knock on the door. What if he got hurt on his way here? What if Brandon followed him, or got his friends to, and-

He knocked, and in a blink, I was throwing the door open and wrapping my arms around him. He let out a surprised little huff, and then hugged me back, holding our drinks as he did.

“I’m sorry. I’m okay. I promise.”

“You asshole,” I mumbled against his neck. “I hate you.”

He shuffled us back a few steps, putting the drinks down on the counter, then hugging me properly. After a couple moments, he pulled back, just enough to look at my face. His hands were still on my waist.

“Were you crying?” His voice was soft and delicate, and he looked almost scared that he’d hurt me.

“Yeah, because of you and your stupid testosterone,” I snapped. “You had to go and be reckless and I don’t know why, because nothing you did could’ve helped me!”

He looked so worried and scared and soft. He was giving me the exact same look he gave me the day he broke up with me. “MJ-”

“Don’t do that! Let me go!” I pushed at his shoulders, yelling now, and he let go, taking a step back. His eyes were glassy. “I can’t believe you! You always do this to me. You find something that you absolutely have to do, no matter how dangerous, and I’m left here wondering if you’ll be okay!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

I broke down, crying again, turning away and covering my face. “Stop doing this to me, Peter. I can’t handle it.” I hated how my voice came out, crackly and broken and gross.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay,” he whispered. He put a hand on my shoulder and gently pulled me to face him, then wrapped his arms around me again and let me cry into his shoulder.

I hated every bit of this. I hated that it was so easy for him to turn me into this sobbing mess. I hated that I knew he didn’t want this, either, he just wanted to protect me. I couldn’t be mad at him. I just had to be worried.

I forced myself to stop crying, sniffling and wiping away tears.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I mumbled, letting go of him. His hands lingered on me for a second before they fell away.

“Yeah, of course, MJ.”

I picked up my cup and sat on the counter. He leaned against the counter next to me.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I whispered. “You don’t regret doing whatever stupid thing you did at all.”

He looked down, his shoulders dropping a little. “I’m sorry I stressed you out. Seriously, MJ, I don’t like worrying you.”

I wanted to ask him why he’d do it anyways, then, but I didn’t want to get into that right now.

“Why tonight?” I asked. “Why didn’t you go all vigilante on him when you first found out?”

“I didn’t think about it too hard, I guess. I knew you were hurt, and I focused on you, but I didn’t think hard about what actually happened. I don’t know, maybe I knew it’d break my heart to think about. But then I was talking to Harry tonight and I realized that Brandon drugged you when he forced himself on you and that when you called Harry the night you were hospitalized it was because you were scared it would happen again and-and I just…I got really angry.”

I put a hand on his back. “You don’t have to avenge me or anything, Peter. It’s done. He and my mom broke up, anyways.”

“You don’t wanna report him, which makes sense and all, but I can’t let him just get away with it!”

“Peter-”

“He hurt you, MJ, and you don’t deserve that, ever. And-and when I think about how you must feel and what you’ve been dealing with and going through it…it breaks my heart.”

“Then don’t think about it,” I told him. “I try not to.”

Peter tilted his head back and gave me the biggest, saddest eyes I’d ever seen. I took another sip of my hot chocolate, put it down, and got off the counter. I stood in front of him, putting my hands on his shoulders.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I-”

“No, Peter, you don’t. You have done way more for me than I could ever expect of you. You don’t need to start dealing out vigilante justice to feel like a good friend.” I could’ve sworn I saw him flinch on the word “friend”.

“MJ, he…he raped you.”

“I know. I was there. I’m perfectly aware of what he did.”

“I can understand you not reporting him to the police, because you think you won’t win a case against him, but don’t you still think he deserves to hurt?”

I almost laughed. “Of course I want him to hurt, Peter, but not if that comes at the cost of you getting hurt.”

He opened his mouth to protest, so I stepped closer.

“Don’t do that again, okay? I can’t handle worrying about you. I couldn’t handle it when you got stabbed, and I can’t handle it now. I need you safe.”

“You-you don’t need me,” he breathed, eyes still shiny with tears.

I leaned in and kissed him. “Yes, I do.”

I pulled him closer and kissed him again. And again, and again, and again.

**November 27 th **

There were three bands competing to perform at the winter formal next month. An all-girl group called Velvet Thunder, a group of two girls and four guys called Next Wednesday, and then us. Miles, Connor, Ellie and I. The Survivors.

The school held auditions in a weird way. For the first round, you had to submit a tape of the band performing to the teacher in charge of organizing the dance. Said teacher picked three bands they liked best, and said bands had to perform for five to six minutes in the gym at lunch for a crowd of judge-y students, who then voted for the band they liked best.

No pressure.

Us being the overachievers that we were, we’d practiced Bohemian Rhapsody for this competition. It filled up our time slot perfectly, we had enough people to do all the harmonies, and, most importantly, we fucking rocked that song.

The all-girl group went before us, and sang a Panic! At The Disco song, then a Fall Out Boy song, and didn’t seem to get too much of a reaction from the crowd.

Then we were up.

The original plan when we were starting the band was to have me on keyboard, but we quickly realized that I sing better when I can focus on just singing. So for the songs where we absolutely needed keyboard, we pre-recorded it, and I didn’t have to worry about it.

We got up on the stage, Miles on my left, Connor on my right, Ellie on Connor’s right. I’d painted the band logo onto Ellie’s kick drum. Connor had his baby blue bass guitar. Miles was using the black guitar I’d gotten him for Christmas one year. I’d done my vocal warm ups. We were ready.

Man, there were a lot of kids in this gym.

I caught Peter’s eye. He smiled, nodding at me. I smiled back.

Ellie counted us in, and we started.

We all sang in unison at the beginning, so I knew nobody could really pick out my voice. I’d never really sung seriously in front of any of my friends before, and I was kinda nervous.

Inevitably, we got to my first solo lines. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Mama, just killed a man, put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead.”

I opened my eyes as I sang the next line, and saw my friends staring back at me, jaws dropped. I couldn’t help but smile a little.

I started to relax and have fun, singing with Miles and Connor and grinning, and then it seemed like we got through the song almost too fast.

After we played, the last band did. They did a Kendrick Lamar song and then a Kanye West song. They were really good. Their lead singers had amazing chemistry, they’re guitarist had amazing solos…

There was no way we would win, not against them.

“I don’t wanna stay for the vote,” I said. “They won.”

“Hey, you don’t know that, chica,” Miles told me. “Their drummer isn’t great at holding a beat down.”

“Yeah, but look at how much the crowd likes them.”

Connor elbowed me. “They liked us, too.”

Once Next Wednesday was done, the crowd was told to vote on a Google form for one of the bands. There were ten, painstakingly long minutes that passed, all three of us bands waiting outside the gym. I gripped Connor’s hand so tight, both of our hands lost feeling.

Finally, we were allowed back into the gym.

“Alright, ladies and gents, let’s tally this up,” Mrs. Candace, the teacher in charge of the dance, announced, pulling out her phone. “Oh, this is a close one. Our runner-up is Next Wednesday, with three hundred and ninety-eight votes.”

I frowned, looking at Miles. “Does that mean-”

“But the winner of today’s competition, and your band for the formal next month, is The Survivors, with four hundred and thirty votes!”

I heard one of the Velvet Thunder girls mumble something about “low voter turnout” before the news sank in.

“We won!”

The four of us hugged, and then I realized our friends were heading over to hug us, too.

“Ellie, I didn’t know you could play the drums like that!” Flash yelled.

“Miles, you shredded it up there!” Harry said.

“Connor! That was amazing!” Liz hugged him.

“MJ.” I turned to see Peter. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”

“Come on, Peter, we used to sing in your car all the time.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never seen you sing like that. It was…you’re really talented, MJ.”

“Thanks, Peter.”

Around 4:30, Liz texted the group chat.

Liz: Hey mj?

She sent a photo. It was Brandon, webbed to a brick wall.

Liz: Isn’t this your moms ex?

Me: oh my god

Me: yeah that’s Brandon

Liz: I was just out for a walk and he’s webbed to the side of a parkade

Liz: Underneath it said something too

Me: huh. that’s interesting

Liz: “This is what a rapist looks like”

Me: What

Liz: How could Spider-Man have known that?

Oh, I had a few theories.

Peter: I don’t know

Peter: He’s Spider-Man I guess

Of course he picked that exact moment to jump into the group chat.

Liz: Yeah…I guess

Me: did you say anything peter?

Peter: No I promise I didn’t

Yeah, you don’t have to say anything to anyone else if you are Spider-Man, do you?

Liz: Maybe Brandon has hurt other people?

Liz: Maybe he hurt someone close to Spider-Man?

Peter: That makes sense

Peter: That’s probably it

Me: yeah I guess.

Liz: Wow, what an absolute asshole

Liz: I’m glad he’s getting what he deserves

Me: Me too

I texted Ned after that, and let him know that I knew Peter was Spider-Man, and then we had a good long rant about how shitty is was that he put himself in danger over me.

It was nice to be able to talk to a friend about it.

**November 28 th **

I got to Peter’s, and he came out of the front doors and hopped into my car.

“You ready to go?”

“I have missed La Marinara so much,” Peter said, grinning. “Let’s go.”

We got dinner, then headed to the Manhattan bridge for a photoshoot. Luckily for us, it was freezing cold and snowing.

“Pass me the camera,” I told Peter.

“What? No. I gotta practice my photography somehow.”

I frowned. “I thought this was for my art project.”

He gave an innocent shrug. “I never said that.”

I smiled, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous, Peter.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He lifted up the camera and started snapping away. We mostly just walked around and talked and laughed, but he kept taking photos as we did.

He was all focused when he was taking the photos. He scrunched up his nose a little, squinted his eyes, gave me directions. It was adorable.

“Aren’t your hands cold?” I asked.

“Yeah, but-”

“Peter, hand the camera over for a bit.” I took a step towards him, hand out. He turned, holding the camera out of my reach.

“Nope!”

“Why are we even doing this photoshoot, Peter?”

He bit his lip. “I wanted to do it.”

“Peter-”

He brought the camera back up to his face and snapped another picture. I glared at him.

“Loser.”

“A loser with a very pretty model.”

I laughed, feeling my cheeks get warm. “Laying it on thick to get me to cooperate? That’s low, even for you, nerd.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You bought me dinner to fill me up and make me more compliant, you flatter me so I don’t protest despite the fact that you probably can’t feel your fingers anymore-”

“Is that really what you think of me?” he asked, feigning offence.

“Oh, come on, your mentor is Tony Stark. It’s not a stretch to think that maybe he taught you some basic seduction.”

“What? No! That’d be so weird. He’s-”

He cut himself off, a blush creeping up his neck.

“He’s…?”

“I dunno. He’s kinda like a dad to me. Like how Miles is like a brother to you, I guess.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes now, almost like he was ashamed of it, but it made perfect sense. Tony was super protective of him, and always checked up on him, and obviously thought of Peter as his son.

“What’s wrong, Peter?”

“Nothing,” he answered, a little too quickly. “Nothing’s wrong.”

I stared at him. He sighed.

“I’ve just- I lost my dad when I was five, and then I lost Uncle Ben too, and now I have Mr. Stark and I’m…I’m scared I’m gonna lose him, too, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

“What? Why would it be your fault?” I stepped forward, but he turned away.

“It’s complicated.”

Cool. He didn’t wanna talk about it. That’s fine.

“Do you wanna go get hot chocolate and warm up?”

He nodded, so we went back to my car and started to drive in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just…I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.”

We went to a café and sat down with some hot chocolate. Peter held his mug, hands carefully wrapped around it, trying to warm up his fingers. He still had snow in his hair and eyelashes, and I hadn’t really been paying attention earlier, but now he looked ethereal and perfect in the warm café lighting and all I could think about was kissing him.

“Earth to MJ?”

I blinked. “Hi.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Uh, just that I should pick up more dog food for Murphy soon.”

He squinted at me, briefly, and I knew that he knew I was lying, but he didn’t press about it. Instead, he changed the subject, and we started talking about school, and finals, and the winter formal.

Afterwards, I drove him home. He still seemed a little off, like he was still thinking about what he said earlier, but I didn’t want to say anything in case I made it worse.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight,” Peter said.

“Of course. Thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. I’ll, um, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

I smiled. “See you.”

He smiled back, and I didn’t think it’d reach his eyes, but then it did, and it made my chest feel warm.

**December 1 st **

“Michelle, do that one more time. I fucking dare you.”

“Do what one more time?” I spat, hands in fists by my side.

“Don’t push me, kid,” James growled.

“Or what?”

He picked up a plate and threw it at me. I side stepped, letting it shatter against the wall.

“You’re a fucking coward, James.”

“You run away from your problems!”

“Only when my problems run after me with sharp objects!”

I glanced at my mom. She was drinking her tea in the living room, paying no attention to us.

“Is that what I gotta do to get you to shut the fuck up? Threaten you?”

“James, I was telling me dog to sit while I poured dog food.”

“You’re damn lucky I don’t shank that rat.”

“James,” my mom said, “Murphy stays. I payed for him.”

I loved watching my mom show more affection for our dog than she showed for me.

“I’m fucking leaving,” I said.

James laughed. “You don’t run from your problems, huh?”

“You know what, asshole? Maybe if you weren’t a violent prick, I wouldn’t have to leave the house after midnight just so nobody’s throwing plates at me!”

“Oh, you don’t like the plates? What about this, huh?” He picked up a mug that was sitting my the sink, and hurled it at me. I ducked, and it broke against the wall. I turned back to see him grabbing the cutting board that sat next to the toaster and swinging at me with that. I managed to grab one end before it hit me across the face, and he immediately discarded it. He pulled a knife out of the knife block. “You wanna take back what you said there, Michelle?”

I froze, staring at the knife in his hand. Holy fuck, how did I wind up in these situations?

“James, if you throw that knife, you’re either paying the medical bill or fixing the wall.”

I used the moment of distraction to dart back into my room, slamming the door shut and locking it.

I grabbed my phone off my desk and texted Miles, then grabbed my backpack and jumped out the window onto the fire escape, climbed down, and started my walk to Miles’.

I kept my phone flashlight on, and my keys gripped between my fingers, but nobody bothered me. As I was walking, I realized how peaceful and quiet and nice it was out. I wished the constant threat of rape and murder didn’t stop me from going out at this time of night, because it was lovely.

I got to Miles’ and stepped into the apartment. It was dark and quiet, and it felt like everything I did was a thousand times louder. I went into the guest bedroom, only to find Miles sitting on the bed. I clapped a hand over my mouth before I could scream.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, I got out in time.”

Miles stood up and gave me a hug. He was shivering, likely because he was just wearing sweatpants, and it was almost one in the morning.

“I’m glad you came, chica. Go to sleep.”

He let me go, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, trying to process what had happened when I was at home with James. My mom literally cared more about the dog, or medical bills, or drywall, than her daughter.

Had I been a bad daughter? Had I done something along the line to deserve this? Had I done something to make her this cold and distant and unloving? Had I been unloveable from the start?

I changed and got into bed, pulling the covers tight around myself.

I couldn’t remember doing anything terrible. I’d done the normal kid stuff, like taking heads off of Barbie dolls and cutting my own hair, but had that really made my mom hate me? Did she hate me? Or was she just some indifferent psychopath?

I wanted my dad. I wanted him here to hug me and make some bad joke and tell me everything would be okay. But he was gone.

How did I end up here? Lying in my friend’s guest bedroom at one in the morning because my mom was letting her boyfriend throw shit at me to try and hurt me. Missing the dad I’d hated a year ago.

I missed the way things used to be. Before Cindy got kidnapped. When Peter and I were together. When it was easy to pretend my mom cared about me, and I got to call Peter mine and fall asleep cuddling with him, and Cindy didn’t hide how she looked at Miles, and I was happy. I hadn’t lost everything. I hadn’t lost the safety of my own home. I hadn’t lost Peter and my dad. I hadn’t been raped on my mother’s bed. I hadn’t almost died because of the same shitty boyfriend. I didn’t know then what was coming, and I wanted to rewind time. Not to change anything, just to feel like that again.

I just wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel that swell in my chest I felt when Peter kissed me before we left the hospital. I wanted to capture the feeling of seeing a really good mark show up on my report card and live in it. I wanted to feel like I did at parties, when I was dancing with my friends, and not thinking about global warming, or Trump, or the economy, when all I cared about was singing as loudly as possible.

Instead, it was one in the morning, I was still shaking out of fear, and I was crying myself to sleep in Miles’ guest bedroom.

**December 2 nd **

Since I’d stayed over at Miles’, we figured today was a good opportunity to get some shopping done for the winter formal. We had a Mean Girls style “Jingle Bell Rock” routine as part of our performance, so we got some costumes to go with it.

Late afternoon, I got a call from May, saying she missed me and asking if I wanted to come along for Thai food with her and Peter that night. I told her I’d love to, but then figured I should ask Peter.

Me: Hey May asked if I wanted to come along for Thai food tonight but I wanted to check to see if it’s okay with you?

Peter: Oh I’m not actually coming tonight I’ve got internship duties to deal with

Peter: Honestly though MJ it’s always fine with me you don’t have to ask

Me: …okay

Me: Did you tell May you’re not coming bc she seems to think you are?

Peter: I’ll call her

Peter: You two have fun : )

Me: Thanks Peter

I tapped my fingers on the back of my phone. Something about this seemed off.

Ned was probably my best bet.

Me: Hey peter said he has internship stuff tonight did he tell you what he’s doing?

Ned: He told me not to tell you…

Perfect. Just perfect. I wasn’t gonna like this at all.

Me: Ned what is he doing

Me: If he told you not to tell me I’m worried bc he only does that when he doesn’t want me to worry

Me: which means something dangerous is happening

Ned: ugh fine

Ned: He’s going after James

James Neuman. Was charged with attempted murder four years ago, but got off on a technicality. His ex-wife left him because of domestic abuse. Owned a registered handgun. The same guy who almost threw a knife at me last night.

Basically, a very dangerous man.

Me: WHAT

Me: HES DOING WHAT NOW

Me: nonononononono this is bad

Ned: I tried telling him not to

Me: dude James has been accused of attempted murder

Me: He’s much more violent than Brandon

Me: This is so so bad

Ned: Shit.

Me: If Peter gets himself killed I’m gonna fuckin murder him

Ned: Should I tell him about the attempted murder? I could say I did some research on him

Me: Please

My phone screen was taken over by a call notification. It was Peter. I answered, then immediately texted Ned.

Me: Wait he’s calling me

Ned: What’s he saying?

I couldn’t hear much of anything for a moment, just quiet breathing and a little rustling, but then I heard a yell and a crash, and the call went dead.

Me: He butt dialled me

Me: But it sounded bad

Me: I’m calling him. That shows up on his heads up display right?

Ned: Yeah it does

I dialled his number. It went to voicemail.

“Hey. Uh, you butt dial me, like, every other day, but this time it kinda sounded like someone was in trouble? So, just calling to see if you’re okay. Anyway, call me back.”

Hopefully that sounded unassuming enough.

Me: He didn’t answer

Ned: Uh oh

Me: Yeah no this is fine I love being worried out of my mind for the love of my life

Ned: He never misses a call from May, I can ask her to call??

Me: Sure

Me: I can’t believe Peter has the fucking balls to do this again after what happened last time

Me: I’m gonna castrate him

Ned: Yeah he’s not the brightest

Me: Dude is freaking top of our class and yet he’s got the intelligence of a burnt shoe

Ned: I texted him but he pretty much brushed it off

Me: I’m gonna kill him

Me: I’m gonna fucking kill him

Ned sent me a screenshot of his conversation with Peter, in which he warned Peter about James’ past, and Peter brushed it off like it didn’t matter, like he was invincible. I realized I should get going to make sure I was at the Thai place in time. Thaime. Haha. I grabbed a coat and my keys and started my walk to the restaurant.

Me: He literally watched me cry last time when he got back to my place and he pulls this shit again?

Me: This isn’t about him caring about me this is about his own goddamn ego

Ned: He’s hiding apparently

Ned: He won’t drop it

Me: Fuck

Me: James is literally going to kill him

Me: I know he has a gun and I wouldn’t put it past him to have it at work

Ned: Oh shit

There was a delay, and then-

Ned: He’s okay

Me: thank god

Me: I’m gonna track him down and murder him

Ned: At this point I’d probably help

Me: Good

Me: You bring the body bag

Ned: Sure thing

A few moments passed, then my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out of my pocket. It was a screenshot from Ned.

Ned: Okay then the police

Ned: You can’t say that’s below their pay grade

Peter: They can’t protect her like I can!

Ned: You’re impossible dude.

Peter: She specifically told me she didn’t want the police involved the night Flash told everyone she’d been raped.

Peter: So really I’m just doing what she wanted me to do.

I was shaking, and not because of the cold.

Me: Ned do you think it’s possible to have a heart attack out of anger

Ned: It’s not impossible, no

Ned: I’d advise against it though

Me: If he genuinely thinks this is what I want he needs a good slap

Me: He saw what a mess I was last time!

Me: He knew I hated it!

Ned: At this point go for it if you have to

Ned: I can’t talk him out of it, he said he can’t promise he won’t do it again

Me: Okay I’m gonna ask May if she’ll insist he comes to dinner because I need to talk to him about this

Ned: Good luck

Me: I think he’s gonna need it more than me

I stood outside the restaurant and waited for May to show up.

“Hey, MJ, you’re early!” May, of course, looked effortlessly glamourous as always.

“Yeah. I was gonna get us a table but I didn’t know if you and Peter had a particular table you wanted to get, you know?”

“Aw, honey, you’re so sweet. I miss having you around so much.”

She gave me a quick hug, then opened the doors, and I followed her inside. We sat down at a table in the corner of the restaurant.

“You look a little…anxious,” May said. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

To tell or not to tell? I knew May knew his secret, but I didn’t know what she knew about tonight.

“Um, not really.”

The waiter came by and gave us menus, then I stared at that until I heard the door open and a little bell ring. I turned to see Peter, disheveled and out of breath walk into the restaurant.

“Hey, sorry.”

He sat down next to me, shooting me a smile that I refused to return.

Dinner was quiet and awkward. May definitely knew something was up, but didn’t say anything. Peter tried to engage me in conversation, but I was angry and hurt and scared, and all I wanted to do was eat and go home.

When we were done eating, and May was digging through her purse for her wallet, I finally piped up.

“May, do you mind if I steal Peter and chat with him outside?” I asked, balling up my napkin and dropping it on my plate.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Zip up your coats, kids, it’s cold. I’ll be out in five.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for dinner, May.”

“Of course, MJ, anytime.”

I stood up and went outside. Peter said something quietly across the table to her, then half-jogged to catch up with me.

“Ned told you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. Do you know what you were walking into?”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle, MJ, but I-”

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed! James has a gun, and he’s been charged with attempted murder before. He is way more volatile and unpredictable than Brandon! You-you can’t just do this, Peter! Whatever it is you think you’re doing, don’t! If you get hurt, where does that leave me, huh? At fault for your stupidity! That’s where that leaves me!”

“MJ, I wouldn’t-”

“If you try to tell me you wouldn’t get hurt, I will kill you. You can’t know that! I don’t know what the fuck you think you are, but you’re not invincible! I’ve seen you with internal bleeding, and-and a stab wound, and I know…I know James would hurt you worse. Don’t ever, ever do that again.” I was starting to hyperventilate, and I was dizzy, but I was so mad I didn’t care. If I passed out, I’d do it calling Peter a moron.

“But what if your mom starts bringing those other guys around?”

“Then I’ll deal with it!”

“If James is capable of hurting me so bad, why are you sticking around?”

“I know how to deal with him! I know how to stay out of trouble! There’s a reason I haven’t been coming to school with glass sticking out of my arms, Peter!”

“I can’t let you get hurt!”

I grabbed his forearms. “But you’re hurting me! Why can’t you see that? I would rather take whatever James is dishing out than watch you in a hospital bed at the base again! I-I can’t fucking do this, Peter, and you know that, so why would you-”

“That’s why I told Ned not to tell you, MJ. I didn’t want you to worry!”

“That- Peter, if you’d gotten hurt-”

“I’m not going to-”

“LISTEN TO ME!” I shouted, loud enough to earn some stares. I was shaking, and you could hear every emotion in my voice, but I didn’t care enough to mask it. I took a few deep breaths, then spoke again, keeping my voice quiet and even. “If you’d gotten hurt, I would’ve found out, and it would’ve been a million times worse. I need you to stop doing this.”

“I-I need you to be safe, MJ.”

“Why do you think I’ll go over to Miles’ place? Or Harry’s? Or yours? I know when to run.”

“What if you can’t get out in time?”

“That’s not-”

“No, that happened. You couldn’t get out in time the night Brandon r-”

“Don’t say it,” I interrupted, my voice soft. I let go of his arms. “If you say it, we’re done here. Permanently.”

He looked away, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re just gonna go and do that again and again and you don’t care how much it hurts me because it’s not about you caring about me, it’s about your goddamn ego-”

“I hate hurting you!” He sounded like he was holding back tears, and when I looked up, his eyes were glistening. “I hate seeing you cry! I hate the way tears well in your eyes, or hearing your voice break, I hate it! Hurting you is the worst thing I’ve ever done, MJ, but I-I watched you die. I saw your eyes glaze over and felt your muscles relax and heard the flatline.” There were tears streaming down his face. “I can’t- I can’t fail you like that again- I can’t let that happen- I’m sorry, MJ-”

His voice got quieter and quieter before he completely broke down, sobbing. I stepped towards him, pulling him into a hug. He buried his head in my shoulder, his whole body shaking. Without thinking, I kissed the top of his head.

“Hey, I’m ready to- is everything okay?”

Peter stepped back, wiping his face with his sleeved and laughing that awkward post-cry laugh. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“You wanna talk about it, Pete?”

“No, May, I’m-I’m fine, really.”

“Okay…”

Peter looked at me. “May, um, I’m just gonna walk MJ home, is that alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll make some popcorn and we can watch a movie when you get home, okay?’

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

She gave him a hug, then smiled at me, then started walking towards their building.

“You don’t have to walk me home, Peter,” I said.

“Yeah, but I’ll be able to relax knowing you’re home safe, so just do it for me.”

Despite his still-pink eyes and the post-cry nasally quality of his voice, I found myself smiling, and then he was smiling back.

I knew it was a bad idea, but I didn’t care anymore. I slid my hand into his, ignoring the sparks between our fingertips, and we headed back to my place.

**December 4 th **

“Peter,” I called down the hall. He didn’t respond, and I realized he had earphones in. “Peter!” I ran to catch him at his locker before he walked away. I managed to catch him just as he closed the locker. I tapped his shoulder, and he jumped a little, yanking his earphones out.

“You scared me,” he told me, laughing a little.

“Sorry, dude. You have study hall this block, right?”

He nodded.

“You wanna dip with me?”

“MJ-”

I moved my hair off my shoulder, so he could see the lace of my bra strap. His eyes lingered there just a moment too long.

He swallowed, averting his eyes. “I’m not gonna skip to-to-”

Harry came by, joining in on the conversation. “Hey, whatcha guys talking about?”

“Harry, will you please tell Peter-”

“No no no, don’t ask Harry for input on this!” Peter interrupted, his voice pitching up an entire octave by the end of the sentence.

“Input on what?” Harry asked, looking at me.

“Whether or not we should skip this block to hook up.” Peter stared at me, eyes wide. I laughed. “Sorry, Peter.”

“Wait, who’s convincing who to do what?”

Peter sighed. “She’s convincing me to go.”

Harry scrunched up his nose, thinking. “What were you gonna use this block for?”

Peter held up his physics textbook.

“Dude, you have an almost perfect average in that class.”

Peter shrugged. “I could still-”

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Go get some. Relax a little. Really, that should help you with your grades.”

“MJ, shouldn’t you go to bio?”

I shook my head. “The test is today, but I wrote it last week, so I’ve got a free block.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at Peter. “I’d jump on this opportunity if I were you.”

I pressed my lips together to stop from laughing.

Peter frowned. “Are you seducing me for her?” he asked, completely innocent.

I burst out laughing, doubling over. Only Peter could ask that with the innocence of a four-year-old. Peter’s hand fell on my back.

Harry gave a little shrug. “I’d say I was just giving you a nudge in the right direction. I gotta run and catch up with Connor. You two go have _fun_.” Harry winked, patted Peter’s shoulder, then headed off to class.

Peter’s whole face was about three shades pinker than usual.

“We don’t have to, dude. I just kinda needed a break from school.”

He shook his head, and reopened his locker, shoving his books back in. “I’m good to go.”

I laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

That afternoon, I got home, expecting my mom and maybe James to be there, but instead found a note and $30 on the counter.

“At Denise’s. Order dinner. -Mom”

Classy.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Peter: Mj do you mind if Ned and I come over?

Me: no of course not I did all my homework in study hall so I’m good

Me: is everything okay?

Peter: Yeah everything’s fine

Peter: Well I mean I found out May and Mr Stark are dating so everything’s fine but I feel like my whole world has been flipped upside down

Me: WAIT WHAT

Me: MAY AND TONY

Me: awww that’s so cute

Peter: I still haven’t gotten to that stage slow down

Peter: I’m still trying to process

Me: lmao okay

Me: anyways bring Ned I’ll make hot chocolate

Me: OOH BRING THWIP TOO

Peter: Okay

Peter: OH I WAS GONNA ASK

Peter: do you happen to have any face masks?

Me: yeah dude sheet, peel, or mud?

Peter:…

Peter: I’ll let you pick

Me: Lmao sounds good see you soon

I made some stovetop hot chocolate, and got out Ned and Peter’s favourite mugs. They showed up just as I was finishing up, Peter carrying Thwip in his arms into the apartment. She was wiggling like crazy, and managed to jump out of Peter’s arms and make a run for Murphy, who was sitting on the living room couch.

Peter gave a small, exasperated sigh. “Yeah, okay, love you, too, Thwip.”

“Did you make hot chocolate?” Ned asked. I pointed at the mugs. “Hey, that’s my favourite one!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

Ned grabbed his drink and took a sip. “MJ, I love you.”

I laughed. “Love you, too, bud.”

I grabbed some sheet masks for the three of us, then we sat on my couch, face masks on, dogs in our laps, hot chocolate in hand, and just talked for a while. Peter seemed a little tense at first, like he was nervous I didn’t really want him here. It was fair, I guess. I’d been a little cold with him the last couple days, still salty about him going after James.

Maybe it was to put him at ease, or maybe I just wanted to, but I slowly cuddled up to him, leaning against his side. He tensed for a moment, and for a split second I thought, “This was a bad idea, he doesn’t want me to be this close to him.” But then he slowly slid an arm around me, and pulled me tighter against him.

Ned’s phone timer went off. “That’s fifteen minutes,” he said.

“Thank god, because you both looked terrifying,” I teased, reaching up to pull the mask away.

“Wait, don’t we have to take selfies? Isn’t that a part of the experience?” Peter asked.

I laughed. “Sure. Let’s go for it.”

We all pulled out our phones, which meant Peter’s arm was no longer around me. A twinge of disappointment shot through my chest, but I shook it off, taking a couple stupid selfies, then peeling the mask off.

“My face is cold,” Peter whined.

Ned got up. “Here, I’ll throw them out.”

We handed our used sheet masks to him, then he grabbed our empty mugs, too.

“Thanks, Nedward.”

He groaned. “Was that necessary, MJ?”

“Always.”

He came back after tossing the masks and putting the mugs in the sink, but instead of sitting on the couch next to Peter, he sat on the loveseat.

“Ned, can you pass me the remote?”

“Sure.”

He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and tossed it to me. I caught it, and turned on the TV.

“We’re watching _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ ,” I said.

“Ooh, can we watch season two? The episode with the weird double date where Amy broke up with Teddy?” Ned asked, all excited. I laughed.

“Sure.”

We ended up just binging the show for hours before Peter asked if we could watch a movie. I let Ned and Peter decide since I was getting too sleepy to care. I couldn’t even tell you what they picked. Probably Star Wars. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything except Murphy and Thwip, who had both taken up residence in Peter and I’s laps. Eventually, they jumped off the couch, so I took that as my cue to give up, turn onto my side, and close my eyes. I don’t think I was awake for very long after that.

**December 5 th **

You know when you wake up and you immediately know you’ve slept too much? I knew before I even opened my eyes to the bright, sunlight-filled apartment.

The second thing I noticed was Peter. He had his arms wrapped around my waist under the blanket (which, by the way, I did not have on top of me when I fell asleep), and I could feel his breaths on my shoulder.

I managed to get my phone out of my pocket without shifting him too much, and desperately texted Ned.

He helpfully informed me that Peter was, in fact, awake when he cuddled up to me, and didn’t simply unconsciously cuddle up to me.

Well, there were about two hours left in the school day, and I didn’t want to deal with this right now, so I closed my eyes and enjoyed being this close to him. I had to shift my hips so I could lay more comfortably, and for a moment Peter stirred, and I worried that I’d woken him up, but he tightened his arm around my waist, and nuzzled his face into my neck, mumbling something I couldn’t quite understand.

I’d missed this, and having him close now made my chest warm, but achy. This was temporary. Once he woke up, we were just friends. Or just having sex. Nothing more than that. This was more, and it was lovely, and I wanted to hold onto it.

I dozed off again, probably smiling to myself like an idiot.

I woke up to a crash, and then Murphy barking. I sat up too fast, making myself dizzy.

Peter had dropped a plate, which had spooked Murphy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s okay, I promise.”

Thwip was whining, going to Peter for comfort, and Murphy was slowly backing himself towards me.

Peter noticed I was awake when I picked Murphy up and he stopped barking.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, I was just trying to make toast, and I’m clumsy and stupid and-”

“Peter, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. What time is it?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Almost two.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, that sounds about right. You want help cleaning up in the kitchen?”

“What? No, I got it. Thank you, though.”

There was a time when I would’ve gotten up, kissed him, and then helped him clean up.

I couldn’t do that now. He wouldn’t want that.

“MJ, are you okay? You look…sad.”

I blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine. Tired, I guess.”

“Have you guys been practicing a lot for the winter formal?”

I rubbed a hand over my face. “Yeah. Way too much. I’m exhausted.”

“Are you singing again at the formal?” he asked, his voice suddenly quiet.

“Yeah, that’s kind of my role in the band. Why?”

He dropped his eyes, a blush creeping up his neck. “I just…hadn’t heard you sing like that until the competition thingy and…I don’t know, I really liked it.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. That, uh, should be all the plate remains.”

“I’ll vacuum later to make sure there’s nothing left,” I said absent-mindedly, scratching behind Murphy’s ear.  

He came and sat down on the couch with me, handing me two slices of toast, toasted exactly how I liked it, buttered exactly how I liked it. “Sorry I ended up crashing here.”

How do you tell your friend-with-benefits slash ex-boyfriend that you were fine with him essentially falling asleep on top of you because it reminded you of when you were still together? You don’t.

“It’s fine, Peter, don’t worry about it.”

We sat and ate and petted our dogs, and it was easy to forget everything that had gone on between us in the last few months, and just chat.

We finished eating, I took his plate and put both of ours in the dishwasher, and then ran my hand through my hair. It had that too-much-dry-shampoo feeling to it.

“I think I’m gonna jump in the shower.”

“Oh, do you want me to-”

“Join me?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, uh, that’s not what I was gonna say, but…I can…do that.”

I laughed. “Peter, how many times have we fooled around and you still-”

“Yeah, I know, leave me alone.”

And, yeah, shower sex is pretty great, but the best part is afterwards, when you give each other scalp massages and make out or sing along to whatever music you have on.

I had never been so grateful that I’d overslept and missed classes.

**December 15 th **

Allow me to catch you up. I spent the ten days we’re skipping over hanging out with my dad’s family, working tirelessly on my art projects, and rehearsing with the band. Tony hooked us up with a gig at a club, so we’d been preparing for that.

Tonight was the gig.

We were at the Desert Rain Lounge, and had a two-hour show before a DJ took over for the rest of the night. I hung out with Peter before the show, the two of us wandering around the area of the city by the club and just chilling. I had to head over there early to help Miles, Connor, and Ellie set up, so Peter found Ned and they hung out until the club opened.

“How you feeling, Connor?” I asked as we set up. He didn’t look super relaxed. Miles had his eternally-chill vibe, and Ellie didn’t seem to worry about anything, ever, but Connor was stiff, which was completely unlike him.

“Nervous. Very, very nervous.”

“Isn’t this, like, not your first club gig?” Ellie asked.

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. But it’s the first club gig that I, you know, really care about.”

Miles coughed. “Because of Harry.”

Connor glared at him, his face becoming a little rosy. Miles, Ellie, and I laughed.

“Oh, he called you out,” I teased.

“Shut up, MJ, god. Some of us aren’t Casanovas who can get any guy they want.”

I scoffed. “I wish I could get any guy I wanted.”

Miles gave me a look. “What? Yes, you can. Did you not see how literally every single guy was ogling you during the competition at school?”

Connor chimed in. “And a few of the girls. At least one of them would tap that.”

My jaw dropped. “No, there’s no way-”

“Face it, Jones, you’re a lot hotter than you think.”

I smacked Connor. “Let’s go back to why you’re nervous.”

Ellie grinned. “I’ll let Harry in early so he can stand front and centre.”

Connor stared at her, open-mouthed. “That’s cold.”

“No, it’s us trying to save you from yourself because you refuse to confront the fact that you are head over heels in love with Harry,” I told him.

“I’m- I’m not in love with him, per se.”

Miles, Ellie, and I all stopped what we were doing and looked at him.

“What? It’s just a crush.”

“Chica, you’re more in love with him than Donald Trump is in love with Ivanka.”

Ellie choked, coughing and laughing.

“First off, I’m not a chica. Second, that’s not-”

“Connor, you talk about Harry like he’s the most magical thing you’ve ever encountered,” I interrupted. “You will rant to me about him for the entirety of study hall if I let you. You literally drool over him constantly.”

“That’s-that’s just…infatuation.”

“BITCH, THAT’S LOVE.” I finished adjusting my mic stand. Connor blinked a few times, clearly trying to process. “Anyways.”

We finished setting up, and then did a couple warm ups. The club owner came by and had us start a song and then he’d open the doors, so we started at the top of the set list, and watched as people started to pour in. Our friends were right at the front of the crowd, and rushed the stage. I made note of the way Harry was looking at Connor, like Connor was most vibrant, colourful sunset he’d ever seen, and he wanted to commit the moment to perfect memory.

I caught Peter’s eye as he approached the stage. His cheeks were a little pink, or maybe that was just the lighting, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’d licked his bottom lip, but it was hard to see.

Once we got into it, and realized that people were paying more attention to the beat, dancing badly, and drinking away their life savings in the form of bright blue shots, we relaxed, and the set was easy from there. I danced around on the stage, smiling at Connor to ease his nerves when I could. I made Miles sing a few songs with me, and made Connor sing one, and Ellie sang backup the whole time, and we had a lot of fun. I felt great. I wasn’t thinking about how in love I was with Peter, or how terrible things were with my mom, or Brandon. I was just thinking about the music, and having a good time doing something I loved.

We only did one original during our set, because it was our only song upbeat enough to play in a club, but it showcased Miles’ guitar skills, and the upper end of my range, and Connor even got a snazzy little bass solo. For the most part, I had my eyes closed during the song, because I was focusing on my riffs (and, if I’m being honest, I was nervous to see how the crowd was reacting because I’d written most of the song). I did, however, open my eyes after a particularly challenging riff as I was catching my breath, and saw my friends staring, open-mouthed. I smiled, and kept singing, but found myself looking to Miles for a little validation. He’d smile back, or mouth, “You’re doing great,” which made me feel better.

After our set, we cleared the stage as quickly as possible and headed out a back door to load up Connor’s mom’s minivan with our equipment. Once we’d done that, we headed back into the club, because we might as well take advantage of the night, right?

I made eye contact with Peter, and started to head over, but some guy in a tank top stepped into my way.

“Hey, you’re the chick who was just singing, right?” His breath smelled like bottom-shelf tequila, he definitely seemed like the kind of vape bro who thought that blowing smoke rings was a personality trait, and he was between Peter and I, so right off the bat, I was annoyed. However, he was also a good three inches taller than me, and the tank top he was wearing did a great job of showing off that he spent a significant amount of time at the gym. What was safer, pushing the drunk dude aside, or entertaining him for a couple minutes then making an excuse and pushing past him?

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“You were great,” he said, his eyes raking up and down my body. I was uncomfortable as hell, but plastered on a smile.

“Thanks.”

“So, listen, after this my friends and I are going upstate to my dad’s cabin, and I think you should come.”

I laughed, trying not to sound nervous. “I, um, I don’t even know your name.”

“Well, you can have that and my number if you promise I get to see you with a little less on.”

I tried to hide my discomfort, and started to stammer through a thin excuse, when I felt a hand on the small of my back.

“Do you mind if I steal my girl for a second?” Peter asked, his jaw clenched.

Vape Bro seemed to think that Peter was my boyfriend, so he put up both his hands. “She’s all yours.”

Peter led me out back, where Connor’s mom’s minivan was. As soon as we were outside, and the music wasn’t deafening, he opened his mouth.

“Sorry to, um, interrupt.”

I frowned. “Are you kidding? You saved my ass. He was about to drag me to a cabin upstate.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. You just…looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Yeah, no, that’s how every girl deals with being hit on by a creepy guy. You humour him for a minute, laugh if you can, and then make an excuse and run off. I was about to say that I saw you and had to talk to you, and then get away from him as fast as humanly possible.”

“I- oh.”

“Anyways, what did you want to talk about?”

He looked at the ground. “I, um, I think we should stop sleeping together.”

I blinked. “You- what?”

“I just- it doesn’t quite sit right with me. I feel like I’m- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Peter looked up at me again, eyes big and maybe even a little glassy. “Okay. We’re good, though, right?”

“Yeah, of course, Peter.”

He relaxed a little. “Good.”

“We should go back in and hang out with everyone-”

“Wait,” he said, grabbing my arm before I could disappear back into the club. “You were really amazing up there. Like, mind-blowingly awesome.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Peter.”

I hesitated, then kissed him at the corner of his mouth, then went inside.

“There you are,” Connor shouted over the music when he spotted me. “You owe me a dance for making me sing up there.”

I laughed and joined him, but my mood was killed. Even Peter didn’t want me. I always knew there’d come a day where he realized he deserved a lot better, someone who was less damaged and less of a distant asshole, but I didn’t think it’d be tonight.

Whatever. I got through the dance, then managed to convince Miles, Ellie, and Connor to leave.

We piled into the van, Miles driving because Harry had talked Connor into doing a couple shots with him, Connor sitting shotgun, and Ellie and I in the backseat.

I got a text from Harry asking if I was okay. I leaned forward.

“Alright, which one of you bastards told Harry to check in on me?”

“Really? You’re not gonna ask Ellie?” Connor fired back, but his cheeks were flushed a guilty shade of pink.

“What’d you say, Martin?”

Miles snickered to himself. “This is why you gotta be careful about it, Connor.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

I gave him a hard look.

“Okay, I told him you’ve been a little quiet since you and Peter talked, but that’s it.”

I didn’t really answer Harry until I got home, and then he insisted on coming over because he didn’t want me to drown myself in vodka. I got out the ingredients for pancake batter, and then he showed up.

“Hey,” I grumbled, letting him in.

“Great to see you, too, Jones.”

“You saw me earlier, Osborn,” I shot back. “Anyways. Pancakes and whatever alcohol tastes the least alcoholic.”

“No, no no no no no, MJ, no bad coping today.”

“You could just get drunk with me and maybe fall back into old habits, but-”

Harry sighed. “MJ, let’s just make pancakes and get you into bed.”

So we did. We made a bunch of pancakes, then sat on the living room floor eating them, and then I think I fell asleep with my head in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter, kids. hang in there :)


	27. Wrapping things up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty kids, here’s your last chapter. Hopefully it satisfies you until I get a good start on the sequel.   
> Songs for this chapter are 184-188 (All I Want For Christmas Is You - Chasing Cars)  
> Enjoy!!!

** December 16th **

Fuck it, right?

I had nothing left but my mom’s liquor cabinet, so what was the point of resisting the urge to drink? I’d numb out for a few hours and not have to deal with anything. I’d get to be distant and drunk and that was everything I needed right now.

I got out a bottle of vodka, then made myself a mug of hot chocolate and poured a bunch in. Who needed moderation, right? 

I ended up laying on the floor, drinking with a straw so I didn’t really have to sit up, and going through my Instagram. 

My phone buzzed, and I clicked the notification that came down at the top of the screen. 

Peter: Hey MJ are you okay?

Me: pshhh I’m doinf great

Peter: You don’t seem okay…

I wanted to say that no, I wasn’t, because the thing that had been keeping me going was knowing that even if we weren’t together, and even if he didn’t love me, I could always take him to bed and pretend. 

Me: I’m finr just a weeeee bit drynk 

Peter: Where are you?

Me: himr

Me: hime

Me: home

Peter: With who?

Me: isss judt me

Peter: I’m coming over

Peter: You shouldn’t be alone if you’re drunk

Me: no

Me: thstll maje me ssd

Peter: Why?

Me: qhy do yiu think I’m drubk now

Peter: Is it because I told you I don’t want us to sleep together anymore?

Me: ding ding dinf we hsve a winnre 

Peter: MJ it’s not because of Brandon or whatever

Me: yaeh i know

Peter: Then why are you so upset?

Me: thst was the closesy we’ll rver get to beung togetger agaib

Peter: What?

Me: and I knoe none kf it menat anythun to yiu

Me: bht it meabtnsomethjng to me

Peter: MJ of course it meant something to me

Peter: I wouldn’t have slept with you if it didn’t

Peter: But I knew I wasn’t the only one you were sleeping with and that stung

Me: yeh yoi were

Me: wekl at the beginbing you werebt

Peter: Oh

Me: wsa that why ypu didn’t wanma sleep wirh me anymore

Peter: No…

Me: thwn why,?

Peter: It’s complicated

Me: uncomplivate it

Peter: I don’t wanna be your friend with benefits

Peter: I want you to be mine again

Peter: But that can’t happen, and the friends with benefits thing was too hard, so I think it’s better if we just go back to the way things were

Me: wautwaitwsit

Me: ypu wanna gwt back togeter?

Peter: Yeah MJ I love you, you know that

Peter: Which is why we can’t get back together

Peter: Because I can’t put you in danger

Me: plwase play with my feelings more whi don’t ya

Peter: I’m just trying to be honest with you

Me: you fyckingr know I’m in lovwxwifh you and you pull this shit snd it fucking hurts

Peter: MJ I don’t wanna hurt you

Peter: Just let me come over and take care of you

Peter: You shouldn’t be alone if you’re drunk

I focused hard. I wanted to be clear. I didn’t want there to be a typo. So, through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I typed- 

Me: fuck off

Peter: MJ please

Me: fuxk right off petwe 

Me: bye

Peter: …bye

Peter: Stay safe

I turned off my phone and tossed it across the room, then sat up, downing the rest of my spiked hot chocolate and refilling the mug with just vodka, chugging that, too. I pulled a pillow off the couch and hugged it to my chest, crying. 

What was the fucking point of falling in love if it was gonna hurt so bad? If I’d have all these memories of being happy but be so miserable? Why couldn’t I just get over it, move on, let it the fuck go? 

“I don’t wanna be alive, I don’t wanna be alive, I don’t wanna be alive,” I whispered to myself, rocking back and forth and sobbing. 

I stayed there for hours, telling myself that I wish I’d died in that hospital bed. It wasn’t true, and I knew it, because I wanted to feel happy again. But in that moment, on the floor in an empty, dark apartment, when I was hammered, all I wanted was to not be in pain. All I wanted was to feel okay again. 

Another drink numbed out my feelings. Another hour put me to sleep, sitting against the couch, tears still staining my cheeks. 

** December 17th **

“You guys ready to go?” Jessie asked. I closed my eyes to nod, knowing that if I kept them open, nodding would make me dizzy. 

“Let’s roll,” Betty said, grabbing Cindy by the wrist.

Liz came by the front of the school and picked us all up, Jessie, Cindy, Betty, Harry and I, and we went to the mall to get some shopping done for formal. She, understandably so, wouldn’t let any of us drive, since she was still on edge from the crash. 

We got to the mall and wandered around. 

“Thanks again, Harry, for being my date to the dance so I could come.”

“Yeah, anytime, Liz.”

“Where do you guys wanna go?” Betty asked.

“We could go to that boutique by the food court,” Jessie suggested. 

“The one owned by that cute old lady?” Cindy asked. Jessie nodded. “Let’s do it.”

I tagged along, walking a few feet behind them. I kept opening my phone and going through the texts from last night. 

He’d said he wanted to get back together. But he didn’t want to get back together? What was I supposed to do with that?

Harry dropped back from the group, walking alongside me. 

“You don’t seem super engaged today.”

“Yeah, sue me, I’m not in a fantastic mood,” I grumbled.

“Are you hungover?”

“No.”

He clapped his hands, and I jumped. 

“Fine. Yes, I am. Not that it’s any of your fucking business, Osborn.”

“Who spit in your cereal?”

I handed him my phone, the conversation Peter and I had last night already open. “Parker did.”

He took the phone and read the messages. When he was done, he handed it back to me. “I love Peter, but damn, he’s stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, and this is how he treats you now. It’s wack.”

And then the conversation ended, because we walked into the boutique, and Jessie shrieked. 

“Look at this dress! Liz, you have to try it on, this is exactly your style.”

I winced, trying not to show my pain on my face. Harry stifled a laugh. I smacked his arm. 

“You two, play nice,” Cindy teased. 

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t want them doing anything that would upset poor Connor again,” Jessie added. 

Harry’s jaw dropped. We all laughed. 

“Jessie, I can assure you, we are done getting to know each other in the biblical sense.”

“Good, because from the sounds of it, you two knew each other just a little too well.”

“From the sounds of it?” Harry asked. 

The girls all looked away. 

“Um, something one of you said during sex may or may not have sounded like, ‘Hey, Siri, call Jessie,’ but that’s none of my business,” Jessie mumbled. 

Harry coughed. I shrugged. 

“Nothing we can do about it now.”

We did our shopping. I was in the market for something a little more casual than the others, and Harry had a plethora of dressy clothing, so he and I split off and went to a different store, found me an outfit, and rejoined the group.

It wasn’t a bad afternoon. I wished I weren’t so hungover and upset, so I could fully enjoy it. 

** December 20th **

“Let’s do it again,” Connor said. 

“The whole thing?”

“With the choreo at the end.”

I groaned.

“MJ, the formal’s tomorrow. We should make sure we’re completely prepared.”

Miles nodded. “One more run of the set won’t hurt us.”

I stared at him. “It’s a three-hour-long set.”

Connor gave me his biggest, saddest eyes. “Please? It’ll help me feel less nervous.”

Miles gave me a pout, too. 

I looked to Ellie. She shrugged. “Just skip first tomorrow to sleep in.”

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

We ran the set list from the top again. And, honestly, we sounded really good. It was worth the extra run through, even if I was exhausted by the end of it. 

“Okay, you guys have your spicy Santa gear, right?”

Miles, Connor, and Ellie nodded. 

“I still think you should do the choreo with us at the end,” Miles grumbled. 

“Someone’s gotta sing, dude.”

“In the movie there’s four of them,” Ellie argued. 

“Well, if you don’t want me to sing, I can do the choreo with you-”

“No!” Connor said. “We need some of the attention on you instead of us.”

“If you think Harry’s gonna look at me and not you-”

“I can dream, Jones.”

I picked up my bag. “Alright, on that note, have a good night, guys.”

“MJ, stay at my place tonight,” Miles said.

“Why? James doesn’t come around anymore-”

“Mom made lasagna and cookies and…I worry about you.”

I sighed dramatically. “I suppose, but only because Mama made me food.”

Miles grinned. “Fine by me. I’ll meet you at home.”

I left, and drove over to Miles’. 

“MJ! Did Miles tell you I made lasagna?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Oh, it’s good to see you.”

Mama Morales came over and hugged me. “Miles said you’ve been kind of upset all week. Is everything okay, MJ?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay. James doesn’t come over anymore, and my mom’s at my aunt’s all the time, so it’s not bad.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“I have Murphy.”

She gave me a sad smile. 

Miles walked in. “Hey. I’m ready for food, Mom.”

Mama Morales rolled her eyes. “What a charmer.”

The three of us sat down and ate, then Miles and I hung out for a while and chatted. At first we were talking about how nervous he was for tomorrow. He was planning on asking Cindy out, properly, and he was clearly terrified. Then the conversation shifted to Ned and Jessie’s rough patch in their relationship, and how they’d been fighting a lot, and then it shifted to Harry, Liz, and Connor hanging out before the formal tomorrow, and us just talking about how cute Harry and Connor were. We were laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Eventually, his voice trailed off, and I realized he was asleep. I found a throw blanket, tucked him in, and then went to bed. 

Staying with Miles and Mama Morales made me feel like I had a real family. I didn’t feel lonely, and I didn’t feel the urge to drink. I felt good. 

If only I were actually family, and not some random kid they’d picked up twelve years ago. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like a burden to them. 

Mama Morales knocked on my door. I sat up in the bed. 

“Come in.”

She walked in, holding two mugs and balancing a plate of cookies on her arm. 

“Hey. Are you up to chat a bit?”

“Yeah, always.”

She handed me a mug, set the cookies down on the bed, and sat down. I took a sip from the mug. Classic Morales hot chocolate. 

“I know…you’ve been set up to think that you’re not loved, but I figured it might help you to know that Miles and I talk about missing you when you’re not around. And we worry about you.”

“That means a lot-”

“MJ, I’m trying to ask you to spend Christmas with us. Miles and I both got you presents. You don’t have to spend the whole day here, just…consider spending a few hours with us. Please?”

It was weird. She was nervous I was going to say no. 

“I, um, I agreed to go to the Christmas dinner with my dad’s side of the family, but I can come over in the morning for gifts.”

Mama Morales smiled. “Good.”

I put the mug down on the nightstand and hugged her. I found myself unwilling to let go. And then my nose was stinging and there were tears in my eyes. 

“I’m sorry I almost let go,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby, I told you it was okay.”

She squeezed me tighter. I stayed there for a few minutes, enjoying just feeling loved.

When I pulled away, I said, “Thank you for everything. For giving me a place to stay and-and for the hot chocolate and…for being my mom.”

She smiled. “Of course, MJ. Thanks for being the daughter I always wanted.”

I smiled back. “My pleasure.”

“Alright, take a cookie, and then I’ll let you go to sleep.” I took a cookie off the plate, then she stood, picking the plate up. “Goodnight, MJ.”

“Goodnight, Mama.”

She kissed my forehead, then left the room, giving me one last smile before she closed the door behind her. 

I ate my cookie, drank my hot chocolate, then turned over and went to sleep. 

I wanted to live here so bad, and feel this warm and happy every night. But I couldn’t ask them to support me like that. 

I told myself I’d get a job after Christmas so I could pay rent to live here. Maybe I’d be able to live with myself if I were at least paying them rent. 

** December 21st **

Miles and I skipped school that day, and spent most of it freaking out about the formal. He was attempting to woo Cindy. I was singing Chasing Cars, in an attempt to maybe convince Peter than we were worth fighting for. Not to mention, tickets for the dance had sold out, meaning we were about to have a packed gym full of teenagers judging our music. 

The dance started at seven, so at six, the four of us were in the gym, setting up our stage. Miles had made signs, _Love Actually_ style, and had a bouquet of flowers, all of which he set behind an amp so it was hidden. Connor set up the Santa costumes on a rack behind the stage set up, so they were hidden by a thin black curtain. Ellie and I were setting up all the mics and instruments and practicing our harmonies. Everything was good. 

“Alright, kids, gather round,” I said, standing on the gym floor in front of the stage. “I’m gonna take you through the cheesiest moment of your lives, but Miles and I used to do this before tests and stuff, and we’re all nervous, so circle up and hold hands.”

Connor, Miles, and Ellie came over, and we all held hands. 

“Okay, so Miles and I used to call this our test prayer, but I’m calling it the music prayer for tonight’s purpose. Close your eyes and bow your heads.”

Miles smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. He knew exactly what was up. 

I closed my eyes, lowering my head. 

“Dear music gods. Thank you for this band, and for our awesome costumes, and for whatever unearned confidence we have tonight.”

Ellie snorted.

“I hope you bless us with a good crowd, good luck with the sound system, and a good reaction out of Harry for the choreo at the end.”

Connor smacked me lightly for that last one. 

“Also, thank you for giving us the opportunity to perform tonight, and giving us the opening to shoot our shots. You’re good wingmen. Amen.”

“Amen,” the others chorused. 

I opened my eyes, looking up at them, and took a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

“Hands in,” Miles said, putting his hand in the middle of the circle. I put my hand in, then Ellie did, then Connor did. “Survivors on three. One, two, three.”

“Survivors!”

It was cheesy, but I found myself smiling. 

“Alright. Five minutes until go time. Let’s get this bread.”

We got up on stage, all of us adjusting our outfits and stuff. We were all wearing black and white, the boys wearing black slacks and white button-downs, the sleeves rolled up past the elbows, and Ellie and I wearing black crop tops and black shorts with white button-downs on top.

“How’s my hair?” Connor asked, turning to me. 

I grinned. “Perfect, as usual.”

His hands were shaking. And then I noticed one of his hands had black nails. 

“Connor, give me your hand. No, the other one.”

He held it up. The nail polish was patchy and smudgy.

“I was hanging out with Harry and Liz before I got here and…Harry painted my nails. He only got through one hand, though, because he was shaking, or I was, or-”

He cut himself off, taking his hand back to run it through his hair. 

“That’s adorable. When are you gonna make a move on him?”

Connor blushed bright red, focusing on his guitar instead of me. “Shut up, Jones.”

“You first, Martin.”

The doors opened, teenagers flooded in, and the show started. 

Our first song on the set list was “All I Want For Christmas Is You”, because it’s not a winter formal without some classic Mariah Carey. It was fun. We got to jump around and sing and dance on stage, and it felt weirdly cool to have people singing the harmonies for that song while you sang the melody. I felt like I was on top of the world. 

We kept going, bop after bop. Everything from “Mr. Brightside” to “A Thousand Years” to “Africa” to “Toxic”. 

“Gaslight” by Scott Helman was on our set list, and I’d specifically put it on there because I needed Peter to hear it. This was the first one that made my voice shake, and my whole body go cold with nerves.

I searched the crowd, seeing him with Ned by May and Tony. They both had the little parent chaperone buttons on. 

Peter turned and made eye contact with me, his expression completely unreadable. 

The next song on our list was “Strawberries & Cigarettes” by Troye Sivan. Connor was supposed to sing it, but before we started to play, he turned and whispered in my ear. 

“I can’t do this.”

“I’ll sing backup for you. You’ll be fine.”

“MJ, he’s right there.” Connor’s face was flushed. His left hand, the one with the painted nails, was shaking. 

“Then make it worth your while.”

Connor took a deep breath, then we started the song. 

It was cute watching him and Harry get so flustered over each other. His blushed the whole way through the song, constantly looking to me for a little reassurance. Harry stared at him the whole time, unblinking, like Connor was a god. 

If only one of them could grow a pair and make a move on the other. 

We did a few more classic bops. “Stacy’s Mom”, “Jessie’s Girl”, “Dancing Queen”, stuff like that. “Strangers” by Halsey, during which Peter refused to look at me. 

And then we got to “Red Eye” by Vance Joy. 

Miles put his guitar down, and picked up the signs and the flowers from behind the amp. Connor put down his bass guitar and picked up Miles’ acoustic, and we started the song. 

Miles got off the stage and worked his way to the crowed to Cindy. The look on her face was absolutely priceless. He handed her the bouquet, then held up the signs, letting her read the first one before he pulled it away and moved it to the back of his stack. 

This was the cutest shit I’d seen all month. 

At the end of the song he put the signs down, and watched for her reaction. For a moment, everything was still, and I thought she was gonna reject him. 

But then she jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“SHE SAID YES!” Miles shouted. He sounded so happy, it made me smile. 

Connor and I high-fived. Miles made his way back to the stage, and we kept going through our set list. Miles and I did “Home” by the X Ambassadors as a duet, which was super fun. He seemed a million times happier now, his shoulders were relaxed, and he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Cindy couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face either. 

And then we got to “Chasing Cars”. I saw Peter’s head snap up when the first chords played, and I swear, an electric shock went down my spine. I looked at Connor, and he gave me a reassuring smile, and I gave him a smile back.

I closed my eyes the whole song. I didn’t know if I wanted to see his reaction. But of all the songs we were doing, it was the one I cared about the most. 

I wondered if you could hear it in my voice. 

We did a couple more songs, and then we hit the last one of the night. 

“Jingle Bell Rock”.

Ellie hit a key on her laptop, and the track played through the speakers. They all went behind the curtain to change, and came out in the spicy Santa outfits. Connor and Miles had taken off the white button-downs and had these hooded Santa cardigans on instead. Ellie had one of those classic Santa dresses on, like the ones they wore in _Mean Girls_. I put on a Santa hat, since I was staying on the stage to sing. 

Watching the crowd react made the whole thing worth all of the rehearsal time we’d put in. Flash’s eye were glued to Ellie. Harry’s eyes were glued to Connor (specifically Connor’s bare chest). Cindy was grinning and taking photos of Miles, which I assume he only encouraged by winking or smirking. 

Most of the girls were screaming about Miles and Connor. Most of the guys were whooping over Ellie. 

Peter was nowhere to be seen. Neither was May. Tony stood at the back of the gym, leaning against a wall, arms crossed, staring at me. 

Did I do something?

We wrapped up the song, which meant the end of the dance. Chaperones started to herd the kids out of the doors. Miles, Connor, and Ellie got back on the stage and we started to clean up. 

“That went so well!” 

“Don’t sound so surprised, Ellie,” Miles said, but he couldn’t sound scolding. He was smiling too much. 

“Aw, look at how happy you are over your girl,” I teased. Miles smiled and looked away.

Ellie hit a button on her laptop, playing some music. “We need tunes while we pack up.”

We took our time packing up, kind of revelling in the successful performance, dancing and singing with each other while we put our stuff away. 

Cindy managed to snake by the chaperones and ran up to the stage. Miles jumped down and kissed her. 

“AWWW,” Connor, Ellie and I chorused. Without breaking away from the kiss, Cindy flipped us off. 

“Do you wanna get ice cream when I’m all done here?” Miles asked. “I can pick you up from your place.”

Cindy smiled. I hadn’t seen that smile since before she was kidnapped. “Sounds good to me.”

She practically bounced out of there. Miles was glowing. 

“Alright, let’s hurry this up so I can take my girl out on a date.”

We kept moving, still dancing and singing, but packing up a little faster than we were before. 

Suddenly, Ellie stopped cold, looking at the gym doors. I looked over, only to see Peter storming in, fists clenched by his side, eyes flashing with anger. 

Miles, Connor, and Ellie seemed to take the cue to leave us alone, and disappeared behind the curtain. They could still hear everything, but at least there was the illusion of privacy.

I jumped off the stage and took a few steps towards him. “What’d you think of the show, Peter?”

“Oh, what’s that supposed to be, a joke?”

I flinched. I’d never heard his voice so now and angry and snide. I’d never heard him sound hateful. 

“What?”

“You fucking knew that’s our song. You knew it and you still did it and you smiled at that stupid bassist like-like you’d forgotten all about me-”

“I’m sorry, what?” I interrupted. “What do you mean, our song?”

“Chasing Cars.”

“Peter, we’ve been broken up longer than we were together. We were a summer fling. We don’t have a song. People who aren’t dating don’t have songs.” I crossed my arms, making myself as closed off as possible. 

“Don’t call me a summer fling-”

“Oh, you weren’t my summer fling, Peter. I was yours,” I spat. “I thought that we would actually last and that all your talk about love and a future was more than just talk. But you still won’t even tell me why you broke up with me, and you expect me to act like I’m still your girlfriend but I’m not! You get jealous when I’m with Connor or Harry and you pretend that you care so much-”

“You’re the one who ended up tangled up with Connor, just like you did with me! I know you were sleeping with him when you and I were sleeping together-”

I cut him off with a cold, humourless laugh. “Connor’s gay, Peter. He’s into Harry.”

Peter’s whole demeanor shifted to surprised, and then right to his normal self, his voice suddenly soft. “You said that I pretend to care.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you do. You pretend that I mean so much to you but you play with my feelings-”

“Of course I care, MJ. I love you.”

“God,” I breathed, looking down. “God, no, you don’t.”

He took a step towards me, just a little too fast, and I took two back. “MJ, I loved you when I broke up with you, and I’ve loved you since. And I-I know you love- loved me.”

“Whether or not I love you isn’t a question, Peter. You know I do.”

“Then why-”

“You should know exactly why! You can’t tell me whatever big thing it is that Ned knows, that May knows, that Tony knows. The thing that broke us up. If it broke us up once, it’ll do it again.”

He took another step towards me. I didn’t step back this time. “MJ, it’s not like that,” he pleaded. 

“How am I supposed to know that, Peter? I don’t even know what it is!”

He took another step towards me, hands wrapping around my wrists. I yanked them back, taking a step back and hitting the stage.

“Don’t touch me.”

“MJ, I-”

“Fucking don’t, Peter. Just get out.”

“What?” His eyes were starting to get glassy. 

“Either tell me why you broke my fucking heart or GET OUT!” I shouted, pushing him back. 

He stumbled back, tears spilling onto his cheeks, then turned and walked out. I breathed hard. 

“You guys can come out now,” I said. The three slowly emerged from the curtain. Miles ran over and hugged me. 

“I’m fine, dude.”

“You’re shaking.”

He let go, then we finished packing up, loaded everything into Connor’s mom’s minivan, then Connor drove us each home. 

I ended up drinking, alone in the apartment. 

Guess it was really over. 

** December 23rd **

The whole gang met up to do our Secret Santa exchange. Cindy got me a new set of paintbrushes, which was the perfect gift. I got Matty a set of coasters with different elements from the periodic table on them. 

I couldn’t look at Peter the whole time. I didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that we didn’t have a shot in hell now.

I ended up leaving early and going over to Eli and Charlie’s and decorating the tree with them. 

“It looks lovely,” Mrs. Jensen said from the top of the stairs. Eli immediately ran up the stairs. 

“Lemme help you down, Mom.”

“I’m fine, Eli. I’m pregnant, not dying.”

“You’re due in two weeks. Just let me help you down.”

Mrs. Jensen let him help her down the stairs, rolling her eyes at Charlie and I.

It was nice that she wasn’t so cold to me anymore. I liked feeling like I belonged here. 

** December 24th **

Mom and I were sitting on the couch, watching _Die Hard_ in silence. It was tradition. Usually hot chocolate with whipped cream and popcorn went with the tradition, but tension was too thick for either one of us to enjoy it anyways, so we ignored it and pretended it had never been a part of our Christmas Eve. 

I wondered if she’d ever step up and be my mom. If there’d come a day where I didn’t lean on Mama Morales for maternal affection. Hoping for something like that felt like hoping for a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Childish and futile. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“I’ll get it,” I said, thankful for an excuse not to sit there with her. 

I got up and went to the door, opening it. There was Peter, all bundled up. Boots, jeans, jacket, scarf, and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

“Can I- can I come in?” 

I had this angry impulse. I wanted to slam the door in this face. I didn’t want the boy who yelled at me for singing a song in my home. 

But it occurred to me that he was completely covered up from the neck down. 

God, I hoped I was right. 

“Why not?” I let him in, and turned to call to my mom. “It’s Peter, we’ll be in my room.”

“Whatever, Michelle.”

I turned back to Peter, who’d taken off his boots. He was wearing some pretty suspicious red socks. I didn’t stare, just opened my bedroom door for him. We went inside and I closed the door behind us. 

“Things with your mom are still…rough?”

“Yeah. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What’s up, Parker?”

He visibly winced at the name Parker. 

“I, uh, I really want things to work with us, because I know we’re amazing together, and I can’t be the reason we never get to try this again.”

I frowned. “Okay…”

“Um, just…close your eyes or turn around or something. I gotta show you something, but you gotta give me a moment.”

Yeah, he was definitely wearing the Spider-Man suit underneath his winter clothes. 

I humoured him, turning around and covering my eyes. I heard the rustle of him undressing, then soft sound of clothes hitting the floor, and then a _thwip_ sound and a quiet _whoosh_. 

“Okay, you can turn around now.”

His voice was slightly muffled, probably by the mask. 

I turned around, letting my hand fall away from my eyes. 

There he was. 

Spider-Man. 

He had the full suit on, and was hanging upside-down from a web on my ceiling. 

“Ta-da,” he said, voice weak and shaky, gesturing with one hand as the other gripped the web. 

I started to slowly cross the room, not saying anything. 

“Michelle-”

I reached up, finding the edge of his mask and pulling it down – or up, I guess, depending on your perspective – exposing his lips. I boosted myself on my toes, our lips a hair’s width apart. His free hand landed on the side of my neck.

“I love you,” he breathed. 

And I kissed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like updates on the story or to follow the rp as it's happening (which means a sneak peak into the next chapter through the magic of social media) you can follow me and everyone else in the group.  
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> @tony29stark  
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> @matty.paterson  
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